Outcasts
by Vol lady
Summary: I've been posting this elsewhere and was asked to post it here so I am playing catch-up. This is dark AU - Heath arrives at the ranch, but Jarrod and Nick are no longer there, taken away after the war by the demons that followed them home. Heath tries to find them again.
1. Chapter 1

A dark AU. Heath arrives at the Barkley ranch, but Jarrod and Nick are not there anymore. The demons that followed them home from the war have overwhelmed them and taken them away. Heath decides to try to find them and bring them back to the fold. WARNING: Involves child abuse (past). Tough read, but I tried to make it worth it.

Outcasts

Chapter 1

When Heath first came to the Barkley ranch, he was surprised with what he found, in many ways. The place was operating very well – it was as successful a business enterprise as he had learned about by reading the newspapers before he came. What surprised him was who was running things –

Mrs. Victoria Barkley, Tom Barkley's widow, a classy lady but tough as nails in the business world, she ran the mining and other non-ranch enterprises.

Eugene Barkley, her son, all of 18 years old but somehow boss of the ranch operation and remarkably, had been since the death of his father when he was only 11. Granted, he had more than a lot of help from the foreman, an older man named McCall, and Heath was certain he'd had a lot of training very young from his father, but to be nominally responsible for a ranch this size since age 11 was incredible to Heath.

Audra Barkley, Victoria's daughter, just about to turn 19. She was beautiful and should have been spoiled rotten, but circumstances made her as tough as her mother. She assisted her mother and brother in all that they did, and somehow found time to be chief fundraiser and Chairman of the Board of Directors of the Stockton School for Orphans.

These three people – a woman over 60 and two youngsters who hadn't yet seen 20 – kept everything Tom Barkley built going, six years after he died fighting the railroad.

And what was most surprising of all to Heath was the grace with which they accepted him into their family. Sure, he had to prove himself in the fight with the railroad, but even Eugene had to do that. They fought side by side. They tended the injured side by side. They bonded, and in the three weeks since that fight, Heath found himself invited into and slipping into the role of an additional son and boss, someone whose expertise was welcome and even becoming treasured. He was astonished at how quickly he was fitting in, and how much they were all coming to love each other.

But something wasn't right, something the Barkleys weren't talking about. Heath knew what it was. It just took him a while to ask about it. He had thought they might volunteer the story about the other two Barkley men, Victoria's older sons, but they didn't. They were two men nobody wanted to talk about. Heath only knew they existed because he'd heard stories about them before coming here. He had no idea why they were gone, not discussed, not even acknowledged as living human beings, much less part of this family. Oh, the stories he'd heard gave some inkling as to why they were outcasts, but Heath had no idea if the stories were really true or were just gossip. He finally worked up the courage to ask.

Victoria's face fell when Heath sat down in the living room with her and asked about Jarrod Barkley and Nick Barkley. Eugene was working with the books in the library, and Audra had just gotten home from working at the orphanage all day, so they were not there, which is why Heath asked now. He was certain the older sons were never talked about because they were embarrassments.

"Jarrod and Nick," Victoria said quietly, and she got up and went to the desk in the corner. She reached into a drawer. In a moment, she returned to the settee where Heath waited for her. She carried a framed photo, which she gave to Heath as she sat down.

It was an older family photo – Victoria, Tom, little children Audra and Eugene, and two young men. Heath looked closely at it.

Victoria pointed to the young man with the very dark hair. "This is Jarrod, my first born. He's older than Audra by 14 years. Nick – " She pointed to the other young man. "Nick is four years younger than Jarrod." Then she stopped talking.

Heath looked at them, noticing how much he actually resembled each of them, even if they didn't resemble each other more than passingly. "What happened to them?" Heath asked.

"The war," Victoria said, as if that said everything, but she sighed and kept on. "Jarrod left home at 17 to fight for the Union. We didn't want him to go, so when he left, it was with our anger, especially your father's. He had ideas that Jarrod would take over the ranch someday. Jarrod served for the entire war. Nick also left at 17, but we weren't so angry when he did. Your father had gotten him a position as an aide to a general named Alderson. He'd be mostly out of the line of fire. We worried less, so we were less angry."

"Why aren't they here?" Heath asked.

Victoria shook her head. "They were different when they came home. Not just older. Not even just worn down from the war. Jarrod, fighting for four long years. I suppose we should have understood more how disturbed he was. Deeply disturbed, even violent. A man rather than a boy when he came back, but a man carrying around too much. He couldn't stop fighting. Nick – he was disturbed by something else, something specific that had happened to him that he wouldn't tell us about. Something that left him shut down at first, but then it erupted. They both clashed. They clashed with your father and me, they clashed with the children – they clashed with each other."

Heath saw her hands begin to shake. "We don't have to talk about this now if you don't want to."

"No, no, you need to know," Victoria said. "It started with Jarrod. He came back angry and sullen except he would sometimes become enraged for reasons we could never understand. When he started becoming physically violent, especially with the children – " Victoria stuttered and began to cry at the memory.

Heath took hold of her hands. "We can stop."

"No, I can't," Victoria said and wiped her eyes with one hand. "When Jarrod couldn't control his violence, we told him to leave. That was in early 1866. When he left, Nick got worse. Sometimes he was all right, but sometimes something would come over him and he'd become as physically violent as Jarrod did. Not with the children, not with me, but with your father and with other men in town. We thought we could work it out with him if we could just find that specific thing he was carrying with him, but one day he just left. We got up in the morning and he was gone. That was in 1867. Your father never saw them again. I haven't seen them again."

Heath found this both hard to believe and easy to believe. He carried his own demons home from the war, and right now he wondered if he should bring them up. Did she need another male around here who had troubles from the war following him around?

But Victoria mad the decision for him. "Did you serve, Heath?"

"Sort of," Heath said. "I was just a kid, just 13 when I went in and it wasn't long before I was captured. I spent most of my war in a prison camp. Carterson."

"Oh, Heath," Victoria said, tears coming even harder.

He quickly shook his head. "When I got out, I was pretty sick. My mother and the other women who raised me, they took care of me. I carried some demons with me – I guess I still do – but nothing like you say Jarrod and Nick had. The only anger I ever felt was toward the men who imprisoned me, and I don't let that anger carry over to who I am now. I was a kid then. I had time and room to outgrow the hate – I think. I never, never could attack anybody I loved. Never."

Victoria looked very nervous all of a sudden, and Heath understood why. She never thought her sons could become physically violent either, but they did.

Heath squeezed her hands harder. "Mother – "

Victoria straightened, looking surprised. This was the first time he had called her "Mother."

"I will never hurt you, or Audra or Eugene," Heath said. "Never. I know you hardly know me and you don't have much reason to believe me – "

"No, Heath, I do believe you," Victoria said. "I knew my sons were in trouble the moment they came through the door. You're not that way. I know it could happen, but I'm willing to accept the risk. You belong here with us. I need you here with us."

Heath understood why she said that now. Not that he was a replacement for the sons who were gone. What he was was a man, fully grown, experienced in life. She needed that. Her children needed that.

"Do you know where Nick and Jarrod are now?" Heath asked.

Victoria looked at the photo again. "I haven't heard anything about them for years. Someone who took a job on the ranch a couple years ago told me he had seen Nick, worked with him for a few months on a ranch in Montana, but Nick got into a brawl and was arrested. He was in jail for assault the last time this man saw him. I have no idea what happened to Jarrod. Before the war, we thought he'd become a lawyer, but I'm certain that's never happened. When he left here – we were afraid he would get himself killed before very long. Maybe he did."

Heath put an arm around her and kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry I brought this up."

She wiped her eyes again. "I'm not. You're part of this family now. You should understand what you're getting into." She actually laughed a little about that, but tears came quickly again.

Heath squeezed her. "The war was tough on a lot of families. I'm sorry it broke this one up. If I could repair the damage, I would."

"You're doing that in a way," Victoria said. "Your coming here, your willingness to stay and work with Eugene – he's needed that, you know, the older brother to help him along. He's done miraculously well since I've needed him to run this ranch, but he is still just a boy. McCall has been wonderful, but Eugene's needed a brother. He's needed you."

Heath smiled a little. "I kinda need him, too. You're my family now, and I'm just sorry Jarrod and Nick aren't here to be part of it."

Victoria looked at the photo again and touched the faces of her two lost sons. "It's not likely they'll ever come back to us."

Heath wished he could make that happen for her, and for himself. To have two more brothers he knew nothing about was tough to swallow, but he knew it was far more tough to have two sons, out there somewhere, that she could never reach.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The day after learning about the two brothers who were gone, Heath had to go into town for supplies. He took the opportunity to stop in the sheriff's office. He knew Sheriff Madden had known the Barkleys for a long time, even before he became sheriff. He would have known Jarrod and Nick, and maybe, given his position now, he might know how to look for them.

The sheriff was going through new wanted posters when Heath came in. He looked up from his desk. "Well," he said happily, "Heath Barkley. It's good to see you."

"Hello, Fred," Heath said, came in and sat down in a chair in front of the sheriff's desk. "Anybody we know in there?" he asked, pointing to the posters.

"No, nobody I've seen around here," the sheriff said. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Maybe," Heath said. "I was talking to my mother yesterday."

Fred Madden smiled at him using "my mother."

"She told me about the two missing brothers, Jarrod and Nick."

Fred Madden lost his smile.

"She told me how they both came home from the war with troubles following them around," Heath said.

"To put it mildly," the sheriff said and shook his head. "They were different boys when they got back. Boys – I shouldn't use that word. Jarrod was 22, Nick was 18. They were men. But something happened to them back east."

"Mother told me about that, how Jarrod became violent and they asked him to leave."

"Nick left after that on his own, but he was getting into all kinds of trouble, too."

"The last mother heard was that he was in jail a couple years ago in Montana. She's never heard anything else about Jarrod at all. That's all I know, except for stories I heard before I came here. I was wondering if you knew anything, or how I might go about looking for them."

The sheriff took a deep breath. "I've heard a couple things about Nick. Not good things. He's been in and out of jail in Montana, in Oregon, in California, too. He turned up on one of my posters once, but I hear he was acquitted on that charge. I told Victoria about one of those early fights that put Nick in jail, but I haven't told her about any more – why just keep bombarding her with bad news about Nick? Jarrod – I haven't heard one word about him. I think he might have changed his name and just forgot about the family completely."

Heath nodded, thinking about what the sheriff had said. A name change would explain why Jarrod had utterly disappeared. But Nick – "Do you know where Nick might be now?"

The sheriff shook his head. "There's no telling. He moves around. The last I heard he was up Placerville way, but that was several months ago. He's probably not there now. He tends to get into trouble and move on as soon as he's out of jail. Probably invited to move on, I suspect." The sheriff cast a sharp eye at Heath. "You're not really thinking of trying to find them, are you?"

Heath eyed him right back before he nodded slowly. "Mother and Eugene and Audra have been mighty good to me. Only three weeks, and I feel like I've been part of that family all my life."

"You've filled a hole for them, Heath," the sheriff said. "You're not replacing Jarrod and Nick. You're making your own place, but you are filling a hole."

"They've been good to me, Fred. If I could at least find out what's happened to Jarrod and Nick – maybe if I could even meet my brothers, talk to them."

The sheriff shook his head. "I don't think it's a situation you can fix, Heath. Those boys came back from the war damaged more than any of us could understand."

"I came back a bit like that myself, Fred. Maybe I can understand."

Sheriff Madden took a deep breath. "Are you sure you want to go off looking for them this soon after coming here? Your mother really needs you out there."

Heath got up. "I'm not really sure of anything. I wouldn't leave without talking to Mother about it and getting her approval."

"Heath, she's never asked me to go looking for them. I don't think she even wants them back."

Now Heath shook his head. "You might not say that if you saw her face when she talked about them. You said Nick was up Placerville way?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe I'll just ask Mother if I might mosey up that way for a few days. She's not getting any younger, Fred. I think if she could get even one of them to talk to her again, it would mean the world to her."

"You might be right," the sheriff conceded. "You want me to wire up there and see if he's still around, or find out where he's gone if he left?"

"That would help, Fred. Thanks."

"Don't mention it. As for Jarrod, I don't even know who to look for, much less where."

Heath nodded. "Maybe Nick knows."

"I doubt it. They weren't much on speaking terms when Jarrod left."

"It's been ten years. Either one of them could even be dead now, but at least Mother would know what happened to them. If you can get me a bead on Nick, maybe it'll lead to something."

"All right. I'll see what I can do. Check with me tomorrow."

Heath nodded his thanks and left.

XXXXXXX

When Heath arrived home with the supplies, he had a couple of the hands unload them while he went into the house. All the way home he wondered what to say to Victoria about his conversation with the sheriff. He wondered what to say about his idea of looking for Nick. He wondered what to say to Audra and Eugene if he did decide to go looking.

When he went into the house, he left his hat on the table in the foyer and headed for the kitchen, but Victoria was already coming in from that direction. "I didn't expect you back so soon," she said.

"I wanted to get those supplies in," Heath said. "They need those nails if they're going to fix the whole bunkhouse roof today. Listen, I'd like to talk to you about something. Have you got some time?"

"Of course," she said.

Heath led her to the living room, and they sat down in the settee. "I talked to the sheriff while I was in town. I talked to him about what we talked about yesterday – about Nick and Jarrod."

Victoria took a deep breath. She figured he wouldn't let the subject of his older brothers go, once he'd learned about them. She wasn't sure how she felt about that, but she nodded. "And what did you say?"

"I asked him what he knew about them. He said he'd heard Nick was up Placerville way a couple months ago."

Victoria's eyes lit up. "I didn't know that."

"He's gonna check and see if Nick's still up there, and find out where he might have gone if he's not. Mother, if I can pin Nick down, I'd like to go find him, talk to him. I'm not saying I can get him to come home even for a visit or even if he'd say word one to me, but it would help me if I could just meet him once. And I think it would help you if you at least knew he was all right."

"If he's all right," Victoria said quietly. "What did Fred know about Jarrod?"

"Nothing," Heath said. "He thinks Jarrod might have changed his name."

Victoria nodded. "He may have."

"Nick may know something."

Victoria looked at Heath. He could see all kinds of doubt in her eyes.

"How would you feel if I headed out for a few days, to see if I could find Nick?" Heath asked. "I know it would make you feel better if you at least knew what's happened to them."

Victoria gave a short, harsh laugh. "It depends on what happened to them. Oh, Heath, I loved those boys more than I can tell you. I had such hopes for them, and that war – that horrible war – it took all my hopes away. You can't imagine how it feels to have the children you bore, you raised, you loved – turn into terrible men you don't even recognize. I don't know what I want to know."

Heath squeezed her hand. "I won't dig into this any further if you don't want me to, but think about it. Maybe they need us."

Victoria looked doubtful about that, but the words did touch her. If they did need her, she'd want to know. They were her first and second born. She also knew that even though he'd found his way here, Heath was still searching for his family, and Nick and Jarrod were missing parts of that family that he at least wanted to know more about. She patted Heath's hand. "I will think about it. But what are you going to say to Audra and Eugene?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Eugene's reaction when Heath told him what he wanted to do, while they were having drinks before dinner, was immediate. "You've got to be kidding!"

Audra wasn't any more encouraging. "They left. We've been fine without them."

Heath stood by the fireplace, trying to decide what more to say and how to say it. "I know I'm this stranger who came in here and shook everything up, and now I want to shake everything up even more. I'm not suggesting that I bring either of them home to stay or get them more involved in the family – "

"Good!" Eugene said, walking up to Heath. "Because we don't want them!"

Eugene kept on walking. Heath knew his siblings would have less than enthusiastic reactions to what he wanted to do, and he probably should have realized they'd be downright hostile. But he didn't expect Victoria to have made up her mind so fast, and he was surprised when she said, "I think it might be a good idea if Heath tried to find Nick."

Eugene stopped. Both her children looked appalled. "Mother, why in the world would you want either of them back after what they did?" Audra asked. "Nick beat up every man in sight whenever he got the chance, and Jarrod – " Audra couldn't even find the words.

Victoria spoke carefully. "We're not talking about Jarrod yet. No one knows where he is, if he's even still alive. But Nick is, and we know where he was a few months ago. If Sheriff Madden can locate him now, I think Heath ought to go meet him at least. I'd like to know how he is, and if he knows about Jarrod, I'd like to know how he is, too." When her children still looked upset, she shrugged. "They're my children, too. I know how bad it was when they came back after the war – I know the way they were then was all you really know of them."

"I remembered Nick from before the war," Audra said, and it was clear from the tone of her voice that she loved and missed that Nick.

Victoria said, "Of course, I remember them both. The boys who left were not the men who came back. Oh, Nick could be a little rough and tumble, but he loved the both of you and he made you laugh all the time. I know neither of you remember Jarrod, but he was gentle and thoughtful and very – "

"He hit us, Mother," Eugene said. "More than once, for no reason, he hit us."

"I know," Victoria said quietly. "And that's why we had him leave. I wasn't going to tolerate that kind of behavior, no matter where it was coming from, and I wouldn't tolerate it now. But no one seems to know what happened to him. I'd like to know, if it's possible. Nick might know. And Heath needs to at least meet his brothers if he can. It's only right."

"You have your mind made up," Audra said. "You think Heath should try to find them."

Victoria nodded. "But not necessarily bring them back. Heath, if they are still the troubled men who left here, I don't want them back here."

Heath nodded. "I understand, and I agree with you. But if I could tell them you at least want to know how they are? Maybe get them to get in touch? Ten years is a long time. Men change."

"It doesn't sound like Nick has," Audra said.

But Victoria nodded again. "I understand, but I think if Heath can locate Nick or even Jarrod, he should at least meet them and find out how they are."

Audra and Eugene looked at each other, still unhappy. But they each nodded, slowly.

But Eugene said, "They don't live here, ever again, and that's final."

Victoria nodded.

XXXXXXX

Eugene was still sullen the next day, hardly looking at Heath much less speaking to him. As they helped tend the herd, they had little interaction. That stung Heath a bit, but he understood. Things had gone swimmingly since he arrived, but he knew there would be bumps in the road even before he brought Jarrod and Nick up. It wasn't surprising Eugene was shunning him.

Even McCall could see what was happening, though he didn't know why. "Don't fret over it, son," he told Heath. "Kids get moody sometimes."

"It's all right, Mac," Heath said. "I know what's wrong. We'll work it out sooner or later."

But then Eugene's horse stumbled, and Eugene went down. Heath was closest to him and jumped down to help him up. "Are you all right?"

Eugene got up, brushing himself off. "Yeah. How about my horse?"

Heath took the horse by the reins and moved him around a bit. "Seems okay." Heath held onto the reins while Eugene remounted, then let go while Eugene moved the horse around a bit. "Yeah, he looks all right," Heath said.

Eugene looked down at his new brother, then away, almost embarrassed, saying, "Thanks."

Heath just nodded, expecting Eugene to just ride away, but Gene stayed right there. Heath remounted but didn't ride away because Eugene wasn't moving. He got the feeling the boy wanted to talk. "Something else?" Heath asked.

Eugene looked up. "You're determined to go after Jarrod and Nick, aren't you?"

"If I can find them," Heath said. "Mother wants me to. They're her sons."

Eugene's eyes took on an ugly blackness. "You better understand something. I was seven years old when Jarrod came back. I didn't remember him at all. He'd been gone too long. Mother and Father were so excited to see him, but he wasn't anything like I thought he'd be. If I looked at him cross-eyed, he slap me around, and one day I laughed at him when he tripped over his own feet out in the stable yard. He picked me up by the shirt and threw me into the watering trough. I was seven years old. I hit my head on the trough and I was scared and I cried. He picked me up by the shirt again, pulled me out of the trough and threw me down hard on the ground. He yelled something like 'buck up' or 'grow up,' and that's when Father came along and they started yelling at each other and fighting. They told him to leave that night, and in the morning he was gone. I haven't seen him since, and I don't want to."

Heath didn't know what to say. It took him a few moments before he reached over and put his hand on Eugene's shoulder, but Eugene shrugged it off, fast. Heath pulled his hand away. He understood that to Eugene here was another stranger who was a brother. Heath wasn't surprised if remembering Jarrod was making Eugene equate his new brother with his old one.

But Eugene immediately said, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to take Jarrod out on you."

"I don't mean to take him out on you, either," Heath said. "I just need to understand what happened. I'm looking for myself, Gene. Somehow I'm as much a stranger to me as I am to you. I gotta know as much as I can about this family I'm suddenly part of."

Gene nodded. "I can understand that. And if you want to go looking for Nick, I won't stop you. Just – don't hurt Mother, all right?"

"Mother knows she can't expect any kind of joyful reunion to come out of this," Heath said. "She just wants to know what happened to her sons."

Gene nodded again. "Just be gentle about it, okay? From what I already know about you, being gentle shouldn't be too hard for you."

Heath smiled a lop-sided smile. "I wouldn't hurt Mother for the world, Gene. I'll be really careful about this whole thing."

Gene smiled a little, saying, "I'm glad you're calling her that now." Then he kicked his horse into a gallop and headed for the other side of the herd.

XXXXXXX

Late in the afternoon, Heath rode into town to see if the sheriff had come up with anything about Nick's whereabouts. He got the distinct impression, from the look on Sheriff Madden's face, that he had unearthed something, something not good.

"Heath," he said.

"Sheriff," Heath said. "I came to see if you found out anything about Nick."

The sheriff sighed. "I did. He doesn't seem to have changed his ways any. He's in jail in Placerville."

Heath wasn't surprised to hear that. "Do you know the charge?"

"Assault. Simple assault. He got 30 days, and that was twenty-some days ago. If you're gonna go talk to him, you'd better go fast before he gets released and hits the road again."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Now that Heath was leaving, Victoria wasn't so sure about this quest of his to find his wayward brothers. When it was all theoretical, yes, she wanted to know what had happened to them. But now that Heath was packing up, ready to go back into town to catch the late train to Sacramento and then Placerville, she wasn't so sure.

"Will you wire me when you get to Placerville?" she asked him as he finished putting his things into his saddlebags.

"Yes, I will," Heath said. "No matter what I find." He got a look at the expression on her face, and he smiled and kissed her. "Don't go worrying about me. According to the sheriff, Nick doesn't get out of jail for a few more days."

Victoria chuckled, just a little. "I suspect you could hold your own in a battle with anyone, even Nick."

"Then what's worrying you?"

"The truth. The truth is worrying me."

"Do you want me to forget about going?"

She shook her head. "Not if you don't want to forget about it."

"I don't," Heath said. "Somehow, I don't think me finding my family is the only reason the Good Lord led me here, Mother. I think you've been saying a few prayers over the years, and now's the time to get them answered."

Victoria said, hesitantly, "If they want to come for a visit – maybe just a visit, maybe."

Heath smiled. "I won't even suggest a visit unless I think we can trust them, and taking them back for good is your decision, not mine."

Victoria smiled genuinely now and kissed his cheek. "Wire me no matter what you find."

Heath nodded. "I will."

XXXXX

It was the next morning when the train rolled into Placerville and Heath got off. He had been here before but it had been a long time ago and he couldn't remember where the jail was, but he found it without too much trouble. When he went inside, he found the sheriff sweeping the floor. Heath remembered seeing the man once before, though not really meeting him.

"Sheriff," he said in greeting, and the sheriff stopped sweeping. "My name is Heath Barkley. I think you have my brother in your jail."

The sheriff took an exasperated deep breath. "For three more days. You want to see him?"

Now that he was being asked, Heath felt a little shiver of uncertainty run down his back, but of course, he did want to meet the man in the sheriff's jail. He nodded.

The sheriff reached for Heath's gun and walked to the cellblock door. "Come on."

Heath gave up his gun, took a breath and went into the cellblock.

The dark-haired man in the cell was the only inmate. He was lying on the cot, one arm over his eyes. He had a scruffy beard, probably because he hadn't shaved since he'd been arrested. Nor had he been washing up very much – he smelled bad. Heath got his first lesson in what these older Barkley brothers had become. This Nick Barkley was nothing like the fine family in Stockton.

The sheriff kicked the cot through the bars, and Nick lifted his arm and looked up. "You got a visitor," the sheriff said and went out, leaving the cellblock door open.

Nick looked Heath over but did not get up. He just said, "Who are you?"

"My name is Heath Barkley," Heath said, pausing just a hair before he said "Barkley."

Nick sat up, looking more closely, more curiously. "Barkley? You kin of mine or something?"

Heath said, "I'm your half-brother."

A smile slowly spread across Nick's face as he understood. "Well, well," he said and stood up. He looked Heath up and down and said, "The old stud's wandering ways finally came home to roost, did they? I knew the old man had a bastard or two running around."

Heath let the "bastard" remark go by. "I live with your family in Stockton now."

"You do?" Nick laughed. "Well, you're one up on me. What do you want?"

"Just to talk."

"You've got a captive audience," Nick said and wandered to the window that overlooked the alley, seemingly ignoring this new relative of his.

Heath said, "Mother is fine, in case you're interested."

Nick looked over, grinning. "'Mother,' is it? You have moved in. How's the old man?"

"Dead," Heath said. "Six years ago in a fight with the railroad."

Nick actually looked sad for a moment. "At least he went the way he'd have wanted to go. How about the two little ones?"

"Not so little. Eugene runs the ranch. Audra helps Mother run everything else and she works with the orphanage in Stockton, too."

Nick nodded, looking even more wistful as he stared out into the alley. "They always were ambitious little ragamuffins. Do you hear anything from Jarrod?"

"Not a word. Mother says she hasn't heard from him since he left ten years ago. Do you know anything about him?"

Nick took a big breath. "Only that he was in San Francisco using another name a few years ago. Big Brother and I aren't on speaking terms, either."

"What the hell happened, Nick?" Heath found himself saying without even wanting or expecting to.

Nick glared at him. "That's none of your business."

Heath had to go with it now that he'd started with it. "Maybe it is. Mother isn't getting any younger. She's well, but she misses you."

Nick blurted out an unbelieving laugh. "Sure she does."

"She's a fine woman, Nick. Strong, sensible – she's taken me in like one of her own, and I suspect it's because you and Jarrod aren't around anymore."

"Well, then, enjoy yourself being the son she wished she had," Nick said and came closer to the bars again.

"What happened, Nick?" Heath asked again, into his face when Nick got to the bars.

Nick repeated, "That's none of your business."

"Make it my business," Heath said, more forcefully this time.

Nick raised eyebrows. "How the hell do I know you're even who you say you are, and why should I talk to you about anything? Get out."

Nick turned away, and Heath just said, "No."

Nick turned and looked back at him.

"I've been looking for my father and his people my whole life," Heath said. "I found them. They're good, and they're kind, and they welcomed me more than I ever deserved. I intend to give Mother what she wants most in this world – news about the sons she lost years ago. If by some miracle I can even bring them to her for a while, I will."

"Well, that will take a miracle, boy," Nick said.

Heath said, "You're in here for three more days. We're gonna talk some more. What name was Jarrod using the last you heard of him?"

Nick thought about it, and suddenly he looked interested. Heath suspected that Nick realized that this Heath might leave him alone if he had Jarrod to go after. Nick said, "I'm not sure I remember. Jim something. Brooks, Brooker, something like that. But you might have more luck if you describe him. Man had real black hair and real blue eyes. All the girls fawned over those blue eyes of his."

"What was he doing in San Francisco, do you know?"

"Some muckity-muck businessman, he was," Nick said. "Made something of himself by climbing all over everybody he could, probably, but I lost track of him. He got himself into something and disappeared again. I don't what name he might be using now. You'll have to go to San Francisco and find out."

Heath knew Nick was trying to get rid of him. He said, "I'll do that, but I'll be back before you get out of here. You and I are gonna talk some more, a lot more."

Nick glared at him again, but there was something different in his eyes now, some kind of respect. "You are one persistent character, you know that? Damn well must be a son of Tom Barkley."

Heath said, "I am," and he left.

Heath went straight to the telegraph office and sent a wire to Victoria. _Talked to N. Going to SF to find J. Wire again later. Heath_


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Heath caught the afternoon train to San Francisco. It was late when it rolled in, so he didn't have any time to begin looking for his oldest brother. It was just as well. He'd been thinking about it and thinking about it and could not figure out even where to start.

A businessman, Nick had said, and a ruthless one maybe, but gone now, disappeared again. Maybe. Heath decided he wanted a meal and something to drink. He thought for a minute that a businessman might do a bit of traveling, so he headed for the nearest place to the train station to get something to eat, thinking that maybe Jarrod would have gone in there at some time and he might find out some tidbit of information there. It was a saloon, fairly noisy at this hour, but Heath still found a place at the bar, a beer and a sandwich.

"Maybe you can give me some advice," he said to the bartender, loudly over the noise. "I'm looking for a man, businessman type. He lived here a couple years ago but he might not anymore. Name of Jim Brooks or Brooker or something like that."

The bartender smirked. "All you got is a businessman with a name like Brooks? That ain't much to go on."

"He had real black hair and real blue eyes. Ladies liked the looks of him. Since you're closest to the train station, maybe you saw him come in here."

The bartender still shook his head, but one of the saloon girls overheard him. "Jim Brooks?" she asked.

Heath looked at her. She was not young and had a few miles on her. "Maybe," Heath said. "Can I buy you a drink?"

She nodded to the bartender, who gave her a small whiskey.

"Seen him lately?" Heath asked.

She shook her head. "Not for a few years. I heard he left town."

Heath had no idea if they were talking about Jarrod or not. He thought about that photo Victoria had showed him and remembered something. "He had a little mole on his right jaw."

"I don't remember anything like that. Hey, Linda!" she called to another girl.

This one was younger. She came over from a table where some men were playing poker.

The first saloon girl asked her, "Do you remember a Jim Brooks?"

"Yeah," she said. "He used to come in here. He hit a lot of the places around here, as I recall. Cute as they come with those blue eyes, but there was something odd about him. Looked like a gentleman, but sometimes he was nervous like. One of the girls who used to work here said he shoved her around a couple times. I haven't seen him in ages. I figure he's dead."

"Did he have a mole on his jaw?" Heath asked, touching the spot on his own face.

"I think he did, but I'm not sure."

"What happened?" Heath asked. "Did he just drop out of sight?"

"Yeah," the younger girl said. "Maybe three years ago."

Heath kept thinking. Maybe this man was Jarrod, maybe not, but some things about him were lining up. "What kind of business was he in? Do you know?"

The girls both shrugged. "He never talked about it much," the younger one said. "Freight, I think. Something that made decent money. But I heard he sold out, right before he disappeared."

"It was freight. I'll tell you where to go," the older woman said, as if something had clicked and she was remembering more. "He had an office right down the way, it's called Malloy Freight now, that's who bought it. Malloy might know something."

Heath gave it some thought. It might not have been too late for a freight office to be open. His suddenly wished he had brought that family photo that had Nick and Jarrod in it, but he hadn't wanted to take it away from his mother. He thanked the women, quickly finished his beer and sandwich, then paid the bartender and tipped the two women before he headed out the door.

He wasn't lucky. The freight office was closed. With a sigh, Heath knew the only thing he could do was get a room for the night. There was a hotel right across the street from the train station, and he was able to find a room there.

Before he turned in for the night, he sent another telegram home. _In SF. Still looking for J. Will wire tomorrow. Heath_

As he lay in bed, trying to fall asleep, he thought about this Jim Brooks. Several things sounded right, but it was too much to think he'd stumbled into the right man at the first saloon he went to. But then again, they said he hit a lot of places around the train depot – there were a lot of right saloons to find. And he had no other lead, and if this Brooks wasn't his lost brother, maybe the fellow who owned the freight company now might know some other lead. Freight men knew each other, just like most men in the same business knew each other.

But maybe Nick was dead wrong about all of this. The violent young man Victoria had described – how could he have turned into a businessman? Granted, nobody said businessmen weren't violent, and this Brooks certainly had his mean streak. Maybe it wasn't so far-fetched to think Jarrod and Brooks were the same man, or at least that Jarrod really had gone into business somehow.

Heath fell asleep thinking, wondering, hoping.

XXXXXXX

Heath was up early and down to that freight office as soon as he thought it might be open. He went inside and found several men looking at papers across a counter and talking. Heath knew he was arriving when business was heaviest, but he couldn't help himself. Two more days and Nick would be out of jail and gone. The clock was ticking.

As soon as one of the clerks at the counter was free, Heath went up to him. "I'm looking for the owner," Heath said.

"You found him," the man said. He was younger than Heath expected, but he looked like he knew what he was doing. "What can I do for you?"

"I hear you bought this freight business three years ago or so," Heath said.

"Yeah," the man said with a so-what look on his face.

"I'm looking for a man and he might be the one who sold it to you. Said his name was Jim Brooks."

"What do you want him for?" the man asked.

"My name's Heath Barkley. He might be my long lost brother."

"Barkley," the man said. "Stockton Barkleys?"

"Yes," Heath said.

The man chuckled. "Well, I suppose Brooks could have been a Barkley, but he didn't have the temperament and he didn't have any kin that I ever saw."

"Did you know him very well?"

"A bit."

"Black hair, blue eyes, mole on his right jaw."

"Yeah, that describes him."

"How old was he?"

"About 30, I'd say."

"Ornery cuss. Fought a lot," Heath offered.

"Blew hot and cold. Was all right sometimes but nasty as sin other times."

Heath felt encouraged. "That could have been him. Do you know where I could find him now?"

The man shook his head. "I haven't seen him since I bought the place from him. I haven't even heard anything of him. I guess he either left town or ended up in the bottom of the bay."

"Sacramento," one of the other clerks suddenly said.

Heath and the owner looked his way.

"I think he went to Sacramento," the clerk said.

"How'd you come to hear that?" the owner asked.

"He took up with one of the nurses down at the mission hospital," the clerk said. "I saw him with her when I was down that way once. Last time I was in there, that nurse wasn't there anymore. I asked and they said she went to Sacramento about three years ago, same time as Brooks sold out to you."

"Did you work for this Brooks fella?" Heath asked.

The clerk nodded. "For a few months. He was ornery, like the boss said. Blew hot and cold and you never knew which he was gonna be. I wasn't sorry to see him move along, and what this nurse saw in him, I don't know."

"Did he say anything about where he'd come from? Anything at all about himself?" Heath asked.

"No. I suspect he might have changed his name when he left here. I haven't heard hide nor hair of him since he left."

"Me, neither," the owner said.

Heath sighed. He didn't know what to do. This was the only lead he had, and it wasn't that great a lead and it was in Sacramento. But the description was right, and if it turned out the lead was wrong, at least he'd be closer to Nick and stood a better chance of getting to him before he got out of jail.

Heath thanked the men, and he checked out of the hotel and was on the next train to Sacramento.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

It was late afternoon when the train pulled into Sacramento and Heath got off. It took him a minute to get his bearings, since it had been a while since he'd been to Sacramento. One thing he remembered was that there was more than one freight company here, and he knew he didn't have time this evening to check in on them all. He decided to stop at the railroad's freight depot first.

With the train just coming in, there was some freight business to handle then, so Heath had to work his way to a free clerk to ask his questions. "I'm looking for a freight line owner, maybe named Brooks," he said. "Black haired man, blue eyes, about 32 or so. You know him?"

The man shook his head. "No Brooks owns any freight lines around here. Got a Brookings, but no Brooks."

Maybe Jarrod hadn't changed his name that much. "He has a mole on his jaw, too. Does Brookings look like that?"

"He's got the black hair and the blue eyes," the clerk said. "I don't know about the mole. I never notice such things."

"How about the age? Is that right?"

"Could be, but I couldn't swear to it. His office is two blocks down. You'll have to go have a look yourself."

Heath turned around quick to do that. It was getting later in the day, and he wanted to check at least one place before things began to shut down. In less than five minutes, Heath was going into the Brookings Freight Line office.

There were two men and a woman behind the desk. They were consulting each other about something on a paper one of the men was holding, but there were no other customers right now. Heath eyed the man holding the paper, the black hair, the right age. The man looked up at him with startling blue eyes, and Heath saw the mole. He saw everything.

It was him. It was the young man in the family photo, just older and a bit heavier. It was Jarrod.

Jarrod smiled a little. "May I help you?"

Heath wasn't expecting a smile. It wasn't the Jarrod Barkley his mother and Nick had described, but this was definitely Jarrod. Heath took a deep breath. "Are you Mr. Brookings?"

"I am," his older brother said.

Heath came closer and quietly asked, "Can I talk to you in private?"

The woman and the other clerk looked over at him.

Jarrod's smile faded. "About what?"

Heath glanced at the woman and the clerk and made his voice even softer. "About a family name of Barkley in Stockton."

His brother and the woman suddenly looked startled, then resigned. Jarrod said to the clerk, "Henry, take care of things here for a while, will you? Come on back here."

Jarrod nodded toward a curtain over a door behind the desk. Heath went around and went in as Jarrod held the curtain aside for him. The woman came in right behind Heath, and then Jarrod came in.

They were standing in a kitchen, and Heath realized this must be Jarrod's home – and that woman must be Jarrod's woman. They stood there for a moment together, the woman staying aside as Jarrod eyed Heath up and down. "Who are you?" he asked.

"My name is Heath Barkley," Heath said. "I know who you are, Jarrod. I've seen your picture, the one Mother has at the house that was taken before the war."

"How are you related to me?" Jarrod asked, his eyes darkening over, the smile long gone.

"I'm your half-brother."

"Half-brother?"

"Tom Barkley was my father."

"Where are you from?"

"Strawberry. Your father met my mother when he came there on business. You'd have been a kid. I'm about eight years younger than you are."

Jarrod nodded. He remembered that trip to Strawberry, his father being gone for longer than usual, more harsh words between his parents than usual when he got back. "How did you find me?"

"Nick told me you'd gone into business in San Francisco under another name. Folks at a saloon near the train depot there told me Brooks and said it was a freight business you sold and somebody said you were keeping company with a woman who moved here. I took a chance and gave them your description at the depot here, and then I came on down to see for myself."

Jarrod looked down at his feet, shaking his head. "You must be a Barkley. You look like the old man, and you've sure got the Barkley luck if you found me that fast."

"Not all luck," Heath said. "You hit a lot of saloons around the train station in San Francisco. I could hardly go wrong."

"Jim," the woman said. "Why don't we go into the parlor? I think we're going to need to talk."

Jarrod nodded and put his arm around the woman. "I go by Jim Brookings. This is my wife, Eloise."

Heath realized he was still wearing his hat. He took it off. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am."

She smiled. She was a lovely woman, and the man standing in front of him was no out of control monster who beat up on children. Jarrod seemed as normal as any man did, but Heath reminded himself he had just met the man. He shouldn't take first impressions as gospel.

Jarrod motioned to another doorway. "Let's sit down for a while," he said, and the three of them went into the next room.

It was a modest parlor, with stairs leading to an upper floor where Heath figured bedrooms and a wc might be.

"Have a seat," Jarrod said and motioned toward an armchair.

Heath sat down, and Eloise sat down on a small sofa facing the chair.

"Would you like a drink?" Jarrod asked.

"Only if you're gonna have one," Heath said.

"I don't drink," Jarrod said.

Heath looked surprised.

"I'm not what you expected, am I?" Jarrod said with a slight smile.

"No," Heath said. "Mother told me they made you leave because you were violent, even with the children. But you don't seem like a violent man now."

Jarrod shook his head. "I'm not." Jarrod sat down next to his wife and took her hand in his. "So, what is it you want, Mr. Barkley?"

Heath didn't like the "Mr. Barkley" name. It seemed wrong, coming from another Barkley, from his brother. "It's Heath," he said. "I just joined the family in Stockton a few weeks ago. I asked about you, and Mother told me what happened after the war."

Jarrod smiled just a little. "How is Mother?"

"She's fine," Heath said. "She's some woman."

"Father?"

"He died six years ago, fighting the railroad."

Jarrod nodded. That seemed to be all he wanted to know about the family. "What brings you looking for me?"

"Just wanted to meet you, see for myself."

Jarrod chuckled. "See the monster who beats up little children?"

"See whoever it is you are. Tell you about the family if you want to hear it. Find out if you were still alive, because the family isn't so sure you are."

Jarrod chuckled again and leaned back into the sofa. "Maybe I'm not – at least, maybe the monster's not."

"Can you help me understand, Jarrod? I want to know. What happened? What made you so violent when you came home from the war?"

Jarrod gave a sad little smile, like he was thinking about how to answer, or whether to tell this kid anything at all. Then he leveled an embarrassed, almost amused gaze on his brother. "Laudanum. Laudanum happened."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

" _What happened? What made you so violent when you came home from the war?"_

 _Jarrod_ _gave a sad little smile, like he was thinking about how to answer. Then he leveled an embarrassed, almost amused gaze on his brother. "Laudanum. Laudanum happened."_

Heath immediately understood.

But Jarrod went on. "I was wounded four times during the war, all of them pretty painful, and they gave me laudanum every time. By the end of the war, when I got a bad head wound, I was so loaded with laudanum that by the time I got home, I was well and truly addicted and some kind of a madman. The Jarrod who came home was the Jarrod who was having trouble getting the drug. I'd go completely without for a couple weeks at a time before I could get some laudanum or some opium. I was crashing, overwhelmed with that brutal withdrawal, before I could get more of the stuff, and I was too proud and too ashamed to ask for help. "

"You never told Mother or Father?"

Jarrod shook his head. "Not Mother, not Father, not Nick, not the town doctor, not the priest. I just kept trying to quit, and then crashing, and then using, and then I couldn't get it so I'd crash again, and that went on and on until I was so violent Mother and Father wouldn't have me around anymore. They threw me out. I made it to San Francisco. I knew I'd find a reliable supply of opium there."

"What did you do for money?"

"I had a little left in my bank account. I took whatever job I could find – you'd be surprised how many businessmen frequent opium dens, how many deals go down there. You can pick up a job, and for years I just worked here and there, got enough to get by. Then one day about five years ago I went to work for a freight line. Just after that, the owner mixed too much opium with too much liquor and that was that. I managed to buy the line from his widow."

"Where did you get the money for that?"

Jarrod smiled a little. "Borrowed from the businessmen in the opium dens. Did all right too. You should have seen how surprised some of them were when I paid them back about a year later. They didn't even remember lending it to me."

Heath shook his head in disbelief. "How did you finally kick it? I mean, you don't seem like you're on it at all anymore."

"I'm not. I was for years, but then I met Eloise." He squeezed his wife's hand. Eloise smiled. "Eloise was a nurse before we were married. She put me in touch with a doctor who helped me ease off the drugs over time – a lot of time. I've only been completely clean for a little over a year, and even now I get withdrawal once in a while, but not as bad. I just keep riding it out, keeping a lid on the craziness. It's easing off. Sooner or later, the withdrawal symptoms won't come back, but if they do, I'll manage."

Heath sighed, shaking his head. "Jarrod, if you're off everything now, why haven't you come home?"

Jarrod laughed. "I actually considered it a couple times. The opportunity was there. But it was pretty clear when I left that I wasn't welcome there anymore. Besides – have you talked to Eugene or Audra about the way I treated them? They were children, and I manhandled them all the time. I'd even take a fist to them. Believe me, they don't want me in their lives."

Heath remembered his conversation with Eugene, and he had to admit, Gene did not want his big brother back. But – "Why not even just write Mother a letter? Tell her what happened and how you've managed to get off the laudanum and the opium. It would mean the world to her, Jarrod."

Jarrod shook his head. "They've put me in the past, Heath, and that's where I belong. Believe me, they don't want me anywhere near them, and I don't blame them."

"Is the addiction why you don't drink?"

"Yes. I drank a lot, too. I decided that if I kept drinking, I was just trading one addiction for another."

Heath sighed a big sigh. "Jarrod, I gotta hand it to you, getting control of addictions like that."

Jarrod squeezed his wife's hand again. "Give this lady the credit. She's seen me through some awful times, and I've been awful to her at times."

"But no more," Eloise said quickly. "He really has gotten over that mean streak, Heath. He's not the man who came back from the war."

"Which is all the more reason you should get in touch with Mother," Heath said. "Come home with me, or write her a letter I can take with me. Jarrod, she doesn't even think you're alive."

"Well, you can take care of that for me, and you can tell her the rest, too. I decided a long time ago, I'd answer questions if somebody came looking for me, but getting in touch myself?" Jarrod shook his head.

"You should tell her, Jarrod. It would mean the world to her."

Jarrod just hung his head.

"Heath has a point," Eloise said.

Jarrod looked up at her, surprised. Then he hung his head again and said, "I think I'd be too ashamed."

"You'd rather she thought you were still that man who beat her little children up?" Heath asked.

Jarrod looked up at him. "No. I don't want her to think that."

"Then come home with me, just for a visit, not to stay," Heath said. "I know, it'll be rough around Audra and Gene, but maybe they need to see you've changed. They're old enough now to understand what you were going through."

"Understand, maybe," Jarrod said, "but they'd still be afraid of me. I'm not sure I could stand to see that, Heath."

Heath gave another large sigh. "I'm gonna stick around for another day. Then I'm gonna have to go back to Placerville before Nick gets out of jail."

"Nick? Jail?" Jarrod said.

Heath realized that Jarrod probably didn't even know that Nick had gone as far astray as he had. "Nick left home a few months after you did. He was violent, too, although not with the kids. Just with Father and other men. He never tried to explain why. He just left one night."

Jarrod nodded to himself. "I'll bet I know why. Mayville."

"Mayville?" Heath asked. He knew the story of that Southern town that Union soldiers had gone amok in one night and slaughtered civilians, women and children. "Nick was at Mayville?"

Jarrod nodded. "He wouldn't talk about it. I knew what happened from rumors running around the ranks, and I knew Nick was there from a letter he wrote me while I was in the hospital recovering from one of my wounds. I tried to get him to talk about it when we got home, but I was so whacked out with my laudanum problem that I never got anywhere and couldn't keep at him long enough about it. What's he in jail for?"

"Assault," Heath said. "Not his first time. So far he's avoided San Quentin, but he may end up there sooner or later. He can't keep his temper."

Jarrod leaned back in the sofa, crossing his legs and narrowing his eyes as he looked away from Heath and Eloise, off toward the window. Eloise was reading him. He and Nick had been close once, and now he was deeply worried about his younger brother but didn't know what to do about it. She said, "Maybe you should go up to Placerville with Heath and talk to Nick."

Jarrod looked over toward her, fast. "Honey, I can't – I don't think I can do that."

"Too scared?" she asked.

Jarrod chuckled and looked at Heath. "You see who my conscience is? Yes, I'm scared, and maybe that's why I won't go home, too. I'm too scared to face up to the man I was when I got home from the war, and if I go home or I go to see Nick, I'll have to face up to him."

Eloise smiled. "And yet, you still called it 'home.'"

Jarrod chuckled again. "I did, didn't I?" He squeezed his wife's hand again and looked over at Heath. "When do you need to leave for Placerville?"

"Late train tomorrow, at the latest," Heath said. "Come with me, Jarrod. You can decide about Stockton after that."

"I've got a freight company to run," Jarrod said.

"I can take care of that alone for a week or so," Eloise said.

Jarrod looked at her, and squeezed her hand again. "I guess we know what you think I should do. Are you sure it's all right for me to leave you for a while?"

Eloise smiled and nodded.

Jarrod heaved a sigh, thought quickly about it again, and said, "All right, but let's get an earlier train to Placerville tomorrow. I'll talk to Nick, and then I'll decide whether I go to Stockton with you."

"Fair enough," Heath said, smiling.

Eloise said to him, "You'll stay for dinner, won't you?"

"I would like that," Heath said.

They all talked for a long time over dinner, until well past ten o'clock, almost non-stop, about each other, about the Barkley family before and after the war, about Heath's background, about Nick. Heath saw an amazing bond between Jarrod and Eloise, his wife of two years now. He couldn't believe that this gentle, loving man was the same man who had beaten up on his younger siblings. But then he remembered the laudanum and the opium and the liquor. He'd seen what even one of those drugs could do to a man. To think his brother had suffered with all three, and then got them out of his system and out of his life – Heath was impressed, and relieved.

Heath left with plans to meet Jarrod at the train station in the morning. Before he found a hotel room, he stopped to send another telegram home, but with this one he struggled a bit with what to say. He didn't want to parade Jarrod's old problems in front of the telegrapher, nor did he want to make it look too optimistic to his mother. He ended up saying, _Found J Sacramento alive and very well. Back to N tomorrow with J._

He knew that was really going pique Victoria's interest, and maybe leave her confused, but it was all Heath was comfortable saying tonight. He found a room, went to bed, and slept a lot better than he had the night before.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Over dinner and on the train to Placerville the next day, Heath and Jarrod talked endlessly. Heath was rather amazed at how easily Jarrod seemed to be opening up. It certainly wasn't what he expected out the man Victoria had described. It was clear the drugs had destroyed the young Jarrod thoroughly, but the older Jarrod had managed to create a new man after the drugs. Heath found his admiration for his oldest brother growing – but with it the urge to take him home to Victoria. She needed to see that he was not lost forever, even if he could never come back into the family.

Which he was still resisting. "No, Heath, I don't think so," he said after they had left the train at Placerville and were walking to the jail. "There's just too much water that's gone under the bridge. I don't think we can fix things."

"That's not what I'm asking, Jarrod," Heath said. "I just want Mother to see that you're not lost anymore and that you've become the man she wanted you to be."

Jarrod raised an eyebrow. "You know, Heath – once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic. And once a drug addict, always a drug addict. Every day is the day I could fall off the edge again."

"Somehow I don't think you will," Heath said.

"But neither one of us knows for sure, do we? I wouldn't want to let her see a cured son when he doesn't really exist. If I fell again, it would be harder on her than if she had never seen me at all."

They paused at the door to the sheriff's office. Heath held onto the knob but didn't turn it. "No, Jarrod, you're wrong. What would be harder on her is thinking that shame is keeping you from going to her now that you've gotten yourself back together again."

Jarrod's gaze lowered. Heath could tell he was thinking seriously about that.

"What if Nick wants to go home and see her? Would you be willing to go with him?" Heath asked.

Jarrod laughed. "If Nick is willing to go, I might fall over dead from a heart attack."

"Would you be willing to go with him?" Heath repeated.

Jarrod hesitated and finally said, "Let's see what he has to say. And let's see what I have to say, because right now, I'm not really sure what's going to come out of my mouth."

Heath knew something he said was getting to his older brother. He smiled. He opened the door, and they went in.

The sheriff was posting wanted posters on his wall. He looked over when he heard them come in – and he looked amazed to see that Heath had somebody else with him. He had heard Heath and Nick talking about another brother – was this him? "We want to see Nick," Heath said.

The sheriff nodded toward the cellblock door. "It's open."

Heath gave up his gun, and he and Jarrod went in. They found Nick pretty much the same as Heath had found him a couple days earlier – lying on the bunk, hair and beard scruffy, smelling like he should have had a bath a month ago. He didn't budge when they came in.

"Good God," Jarrod said at the sight of him.

Nick looked up, and then got up. He came to the bars, eyeing his older brother carefully. An amused look came over his face. "Well, I never thought I'd see you again," he said. "My big brother Jarrod. My big long-lost brother Jarrod. Where the hell have you been?"

"San Francisco and Sacramento," Jarrod said. "Heath told me where you've been. How many incarcerations does this make?"

Nick looked at Heath. "'Incarcerations.' Brother Jarrod hasn't lost his flair for words. Well, I gotta hand it to you, Heath. You got him here. Now what?"

Jarrod said, "You know, this new brother of ours has his own way with words. He's talked me into some things that until this very moment, I didn't think I could ever be talked into."

Heath smiled. Jarrod was really considering going home with him. He'd really gotten through to his oldest brother. Now, what about the middle man?

"It might be a good idea if you and I caught up on things," Jarrod said to Nick.

"You said you already know where I've been. Jail!"

"I'm amazed you're not in San Quentin."

"I'm amazed you're not dead."

Heath backed up a little bit. "I think I'm gonna leave you two to hammer out some things alone. Jarrod, I'll be at the café across the street. Just come on over when you're through."

Heath turned and walked out, closing the cellblock door behind him. Nick went back to his cot and lay down on it again. "Talk away, big brother. Tell me what you've been up to all these years."

There was a stool nearby that Jarrod pulled up. He sat down on it and rested his feet up against the bars of the cell where Nick lay. He pushed his hat back, saying, "Mostly running a freight business. And beating a drug and alcohol habit."

Nick quickly sat up, looking at Jarrod squarely, but it was a moment or two before he said, "Well, I figured it had to be something like that. I just never thought I'd hear you admit it."

"What's your excuse?" Jarrod asked.

Nick shrugged. "No excuse. I'm just a bad egg."

"Nick, you always were hot headed, but not the kind to go from one assault charge to another for years," Jarrod said. "I've confessed my nasty habits. Why don't you confess yours?"

"To an alcoholic and a drug addict? Why would I do that?"

"Maybe because I'm the one who'll listen," Jarrod said.

Nick laughed, an ugly laugh that wasn't funny. "I've gotten along fine without you for years, Jarrod. I don't need you now."

"This is 'fine'?" Jarrod asked, letting his gaze wander over the jail cell. "You know how long it took me to get a grip on my addictions, Nick?"

"I don't know, and I don't care," Nick said and lay back down.

"Until three years ago, I used laudanum or opium every chance I got and I drank whenever I pleased and however much I pleased. Then I got a doctor who helped me ease off those poisons without getting as murderous as every other time I tried to get along without them. Took me two years to stop using, and I still live with the withdrawal effects now and then. But I'm off of everything."

"Bully for you," Nick said.

"If I can get off all that stuff, why can't you come to terms with Mayville?"

Nick sat up again. "Mayville? What makes you think anything of what I am has to do with Mayville?"

"Because we grew up together and I know you," Jarrod said, lowering his legs and leaning forward toward his brother. "I know what happened at Mayville. I never for a minute believed you had anything to do with it, but that's what you thought everybody was thinking, wasn't it? You've always believed that everyone, in the family and outside it, figured you had something to do with killing all those innocent people."

"You're full of it, Jarrod," Nick said and lay back down again.

"Am I? It's amazing how clearly you can think when you don't have drugs and liquor on the brain, Nick. It came to me about a year ago, when I was off everything and I happened to see an article in the Sacramento paper about Mayville. That's what was bothering you when we got home after the war."

"Shut up, Jarrod," Nick said.

"Then I knew. You were still carrying guilt around, after all these years, but me being an alcohol and drug addled fool, I was never there to help you figure that out."

Nick looked at Jarrod sharply. He understood, Jarrod was accepting some responsibility for Nick's life going sour. For a moment that made Nick livid, but then it brought back something else. It brought back the memory of an older brother who told him when they were kids that he would always look out for him. Jarrod didn't live up to that. "Why didn't you come looking for me when you got the light on in your messed-up attic?"

"I couldn't," Jarrod said. "That's how I know you've been feeling guilty for Mayville. I've been feeling guilty that I couldn't come to you and help you because I was such a shamed idiot I couldn't face you. Besides, I thought you were still at home and I couldn't go there. Now – maybe I can help you by using what happened to me."

Nick was starting to get irritated. He got up and leaned toward his brother. "Since when did you get to be the voice of moral authority, you who beat up little kids every chance you got?"

"Recovering addicts go straight for the moral high ground, Nick. Live with it."

Nick turned away in a huff and went for the window that overlooked the alley. He was surprised to see Heath out there, smoking a cigarette that he could smell from here, and it smelled awful. "Do you believe that kid really is our brother?"

Jarrod was surprised at the sudden change of subject, and how sincere Nick sounded about wanting his opinion. "Yeah, I do. Just look at him, Nick. He looks more like Father than either you or I do."

"I can't imagine Mother just taking him in like that."

"I can."

Nick looked back at his older brother.

Jarrod shrugged. "Heath tells me Eugene has been running the ranch since Father died. He was only 11 years old when he took over, Nick. He's had McCall, but he still needs help. You and I failed him. Heath came along, and he's coming through for him. Of course Mother would take him in."

Nick looked ornery again. "Well, just what do you propose we do about this? Go home with this Heath kid and beg for forgiveness? I'm not one for getting down on my knees."

"That's where the moral high ground is, Nick," Jarrod said, standing up. "You get out of here tomorrow, don't you?"

"Noon," Nick said.

"Get a bath and a shave and a haircut, and then, yeah, let's go to Stockton with Heath."

"You may be reformed, but I'm not."

"I can help you with that, if you'll talk to me. Even Heath has his demons from the war."

"Heath?! He's a kid!"

"A kid who joined the army at 13 and spent a lot of time in a prison camp," Jarrod said.

"I didn't know that," Nick said.

"We're not the only ones who came home in trouble, Nick. We're just the ones who couldn't get over it. You and me and Heath, we can talk tonight, maybe get Mayville out in the open finally."

"Do you think for one minute they'll take us back?"

Jarrod shrugged. "I don't know. Does it really matter if they do or they don't? We've still got lives to live. I have a wife in Sacramento. I'm not likely to be going back to Stockton to stay, whether they want us or not."

Nick's eyebrows went up. Jarrod was married!

"You have a hole you've dug for yourself to get out of," Jarrod said. "Maybe it doesn't matter if they take us back. Maybe we can find some way to take each other back, be the boys we were before that damned war took us away."

Nick's gaze fell to the floor. He was hearing that older brother of his who more than once promised to take care of him, all those years ago, before that damned war took them away. It was nice, it was comforting to hear that Jarrod again. Until this moment, Nick didn't realize how much he missed him. "Maybe," he said and looked up again.

Jarrod smiled.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

It was nearly an hour before Jarrod met Heath in the café across the street. Heath was nursing a cup of coffee. "Did you eat?" Jarrod asked as he sat down.

"I was waiting for you," Heath said. "How did it go?"

"Uneven - good, then rough, then good, then rough - but better than I thought it would. We ironed some things out. I told him we'd bring his dinner over and talk some more. I couldn't get Mayville out in the open, though. We'll have to work on that."

Heath stared at his older brother, and then shook his head.

"What's the matter?" Jarrod asked.

"You're just not anything like I expected," Heath said.

"Good," Jarrod said. "I stopped at the telegraph office on my way over here and wired my wife. I told her – " He stopped, almost afraid to say what he was about to say. "I told her we would probably go down to Stockton tomorrow or the next day."

"You've decided you want to go," Heath said.

Jarrod nodded. "I owe them. Even if they just run me out the door right away, I owe them answers."

"I hope Nick feels the same way."

"He might come around. Let's get some food and then take some over to him. If he's still like he was when we were kids, he'll do a lot better on a full stomach."

Heath chuckled.

It was only an hour later Heath carried the tray across the street and Jarrod opened the door to the sheriff's office for him. The sheriff was back in the cellblock now, sweeping out the cell Nick was not in. Nick was flat out on the cot again, but he sat up when he smelled dinner coming in.

"Hungry?" Heath asked.

The sheriff lifted Heath's gun out of his holster and checked out the tray for dangerous implements. There was only a very blunt dinner knife that looked remotely dodgy, and the sheriff let that go. The food was boiled chicken and potatoes – really bland looking.

Nick sneered a little at it as Heath brought it in and set it on the cot. "Is there any chance Silas still works at the Barkley place?" he asked.

Heath left the cell and the sheriff locked the door again. "He does," Heath said.

"Might be worth a trip just for the food," Nick said.

Jarrod sat down on the stool again, while Heath leaned up against the bars of the other cell and the sheriff went out. "We probably ought not go down there until we settle a few things, Nick," Jarrod said.

Nick began to eat and looked up at his older brother as he chewed. "Bossy as ever, aren't you?"

"Somebody has to make you think," Jarrod said. "You never did it very well on your own."

"And some things never change," Nick said.

Heath was afraid they were about to argue, something Jarrod had warned him might happen at any moment. Even as kids, they squabbled a lot. "We do have some decisions to make," Heath said. "I'm not keen on taking you to Stockton if you're going to bring the old problems with you. Mother will just show you the door right off."

"Yeah, you're right," Nick said.

"We both have some violent streaks to keep under control," Jarrod said.

"I thought you were through with yours," Nick said.

"If I keep my drug problems under control, I can control my anger."

"And you want me to control mine," Nick said.

"For Mother's sake, Nick," Heath said. "Nobody's expecting a heartfelt reunion, but at least it needs to be calm."

"What if I don't want to go?" Nick asked.

"Nobody's gonna twist your arm," Heath said. "You go because you want to. The best we can do is help you want to."

Nick looked at Jarrod. "When you were here before, you said we should talk about the war."

"I think we should," Jarrod said. "That's where all the problems came from."

Nick took another bite of food and looked at Heath. "Jarrod tells me you were at Carterson."

"That's where I spent most of my war," Heath said.

"And now you're just over it all."

"No, I'm not," Heath said. "I just don't carry it around with me everywhere."

"Jarrod thinks that's what I do with Mayville."

"Do you?"

Nick paused in his eating for a moment. "He said that I thought everybody blamed me for what happened there, when I didn't have anything to do with it."

"What did you have to do with it?" Heath asked.

"I was General Alderson's aide," Nick said. "He didn't know anything about it, and neither did I. It just happened on our watch is all, so it's ours to live with."

"But not your fault," Jarrod said. "You couldn't prevent what you didn't know about, and you weren't court martialed. Neither was Alderson."

Nick was quiet for quite a while. They let him have his silence, watching him go over things in his mind. "I keep thinking I should have known," Nick finally said.

"Why?" Jarrod asked.

"It was my job to know."

"Didn't you say you were officer of the day? It was your job to convey information from the staff to the general," Jarrod said. "You couldn't convey what you never got."

"Somehow that never made a lot of difference to me."

"How did Alderson take it?" Heath asked.

"Like a general," Nick said. "He stomped around and chewed people out and then went on to the next campaign."

"And you couldn't go on to that next campaign," Jarrod said.

"I was a kid," Nick said. "I wasn't even 18 yet. I had all these great ideals of honor and loyalty and our righteous cause."

"It was still a righteous cause, Nick, even if some of our men sullied it," Jarrod said.

Nick looked over at his two brothers. "Why didn't I know? I should have known."

"You should have been where you were ordered to be," Heath said. "Were you?"

Nick nodded slowly.

"Were you supposed to be anywhere near Mayville?" Heath asked.

"I was supposed to be ten miles away with General Alderson, and that's where I was," Nick said quietly.

"And everybody who knew you knew that's where you were supposed to be," Jarrod said. "You've always been the only one who blamed you for Mayville."

Nick put his food aside. He stared up at the ceiling. "You know something? Maybe you're right. I did my job. I did it right."

"But you're still mad about it," Heath said.

"Yeah," Nick said. "I'm still mad. I didn't do anything wrong and I'm still mad!"

"Why?" Jarrod asked. "What are you blaming yourself for?"

Nick finally took a deep breath and glared at Jarrod. "For being so meaningless. Being so unimportant. Being so worthless that I was there when if I'd have been there I might have stopped it!"

"Nick, you weren't worthless," Jarrod said. "You just had other work to do, and you did it."

Nick stared at Jarrod. "Father weaseled me that aide's position to keep me out of the line of fire, because you were in it."

"He told you that?" Jarrod asked.

Nick nodded. "And once I got out there, I hated you for that."

Jarrod straightened. So, this wasn't really so much about Mayville at all. Mayville was part of it, but it was really about Nick feeling unimportant because he was kept away from the action, and he was kept away from the action because his big brother Jarrod was in it. Jarrod turned livid, standing up and putting himself directly in front of Nick at the bars of his cell. "You had no right to hate me for that, Nick. You had no right to be in Mayville, and you had no right to blame me because you weren't. You did your job, and I did mine."

Nick stood up and stood fast right against his older brother, and they glared hard at each other through the bars. Heath kept back, not because he was afraid they'd start strangling each other, but because they had to deal with their anger with each other without him. He had no right to get in the way.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Neither Jarrod nor Nick was willing to back off, and Heath thought maybe they ought not to. Maybe they needed to face this down, now that the truth had come out. Nick's anger was based on his not being important enough to do anything about Mayville, and he was not important because their Father kept him from the action, because Jarrod was in it.

But suddenly, it was Nick who backed away. Suddenly, everything he had just said sounded so stupid he couldn't believe it. And yet, that was the way he'd felt all these years, without admitting it to himself or anyone else. Now that he'd actually said it out loud, he couldn't reconcile how much his feelings meant to him with how stupid it was that they did.

"I'm sorry," Nick ended up saying, wandering back to the window that overlooked the alley.

"Why?" Jarrod asked.

"Because I've blamed you for keeping me from being important in the war, and now I think that's as dumb a thought as I ever had in my life."

Jarrod was stunned. He didn't know what to say.

Heath did. "And you've been beating men up just to prove you're not worthless."

Nick looked at Jarrod, nodding. "You had your job and I had mine, and I did mine. I wasn't at Mayville because I wasn't supposed to be at Mayville, and that wasn't anybody's fault. I was just doing my job." He heaved a big sigh and grumbled, "I'm an idiot to think I could have stopped it even if I'd been there."

"All I ever heard, Nick," Jarrod said, "was that you always did your job, and you did it well, and that had nothing to do with me. There's not a damned thing for you to feel guilty about or angry about."

"It's still kinda hard to stop," Nick said, shaking his head.

"It's just a habit, an addiction even," Jarrod said. "Now you know you have it, you can work on getting rid of it. It takes work."

Nick nodded. "It won't go away overnight. It won't go away in time for me to go see Mother."

"I've still got mine following me around, too," Jarrod said, "but I'm going to go see Mother anyway. Let's do it together. We don't have to stay. They won't want us to anyway."

Heath said, "I'd like to tell Mother we're coming on the early train the day after tomorrow. You'll need some time to clean up, Nick."

Nick nodded again. "A hot bath, a haircut, a shave – they sound pretty good."

"And a bed in a good hotel rather than a cot in a cell," Jarrod said with a smile.

Nick smiled, too. "That sounds _very_ good."

XXXXXXX

They spent the evening talking more, talking a lot, even when it seemed like that should have run out of things to talk about. When Nick got out of jail the next noon, his brothers took him straight to the best tonsorial parlor they could find. Nick had a long, lovely bath, a good haircut and a great shave. He thought he had never felt so good in his life.

The whole operation took more than two hours. Heath and Jarrod took part of the time to send wires home – Jarrod sending one to Eloise to update her on their plans, Heath sending one home to Victoria.

Victoria got Heath's telegram just before Eugene came in from the field. Audra was there when the runner came. Victoria was so engrossed in the message she didn't notice Audra was looking over her shoulder.

Heath's message read, _Will be there tomorrow with J and N. Both OK. Just a visit. Heath_

"No," Audra said flat out.

Victoria was close to tears, to think that her lost sons would be here tomorrow, and she was shocked to hear Audra say what she did. She turned toward her daughter. "Audra – "

"No!" Audra said again. "I don't want to see either one of them! If they're going to be here, I'm going to be in town!"

"Audra, they won't be staying," Victoria said.

"I don't want to see them, Mother," Audra reiterated. "I don't have anything to say to either one of them, and I don't want to hear what they have to say, either."

"Why not?" Victoria asked.

"Why not? After what Jarrod did to me? After Nick running off like he did? How can they possibly say anything that I want to hear? How can they possibly say anything that YOU want to hear?"

Victoria shrugged a little. "How will I know until I hear them say it?"

Audra tried to leave.

Victoria took hold of her arm. "I won't force you to stay and see them, but I wish you would. It would mean the world to me."

Audra saw the tears in her mother's eyes and couldn't believe what she was seeing. "You're _crying_ for them? Mother, how in the world can you shed tears over those two? They shamed you. They hurt you. They hurt all of us, and the probably hurt Father the most. How can you even let them in this house?"

Victoria considered her response carefully. Audra had good questions. How could she even want them around? How could she even let them into the house? There was really only one answer. "They're my sons, Audra. When your child goes wrong, you want to do everything you can to get them back right again. I can't even begin to do that until I see them and talk to them, and Audra, this may be the very last time I will ever see them."

Audra still didn't understand her mother. "You tried to save them before, Mother. It didn't work."

"That was ten years ago," Victoria said. "Maybe now they know why it didn't work. How will I know what they know or who they are now if I don't talk to them?"

"Well, don't ask me to do it," Audra said. "I'll be in town tomorrow at the orphanage. At least I can do something worthwhile there."

Audra walked away, toward the library. Victoria knew her daughter was probably going to scream her head off in there, furious that her mother was choosing her two wayward hurtful sons over her. Victoria knew she was risking a rift between her and her daughter, just because she wanted to see her sons who hurt everyone in the Barkley family so badly. But Victoria couldn't help it. She had to know what had happened to Jarrod and Nick. She had to know if they were all right now. She had to see them, even if they weren't all right. She knew that after this, she might never see them again.

XXXXXX

The brothers spent the evening in one of the finer saloons in town, talking, getting to know one another, figuring out how the next few days were going to go. They really weren't able to pin down much of anything but they were able to bolster each other's courage about what was going to happen in Stockton. Jarrod did not drink any alcohol, but he kept an eye on his brothers and made sure they did not overdo, which didn't hurt their feelings either. Heath did not want to be hung over when they went to Stockton the next day, and while Nick thought maybe he did want to be drunk tonight, he decided not to do it.

Nick was probably the most nervous about going to Stockton. Sure, Jarrod had a lot to be nervous about, coming back after being thrown out, but Nick knew the fact that he had snuck out in the middle of the night was something he was going to have to face up to and apologize for. Over the years, he had decided it was a cowardly thing to do, but he never could bring himself even to write and apologize.

"Try not to lose any sleep over it," Heath said when he realized how nervous Nick was about it. "With all we have to talk about when we get home, that might just get lost in the mix, or at least not be more important than anything else."

"Home," Nick said thoughtfully, staring into a glass of whiskey. "I wonder if I'm gonna consider it home when I see it again."

"Maybe you will, maybe you won't," Jarrod said. "I have a home now, with my wife in Sacramento. It might not feel much like home to me, now that I have one of my own."

"But I've been drifting and getting into trouble," Nick said. "If home is some kind of anchor, that house near Stockton is the only one I've got."

"You know, Nick, it's new to me but it's still the only one I've got, too," Heath said. "Just don't go worrying about it. Let it be whatever it is."

Nick grunted, thinking about it, but late that night, still awake in that nice, comfortable hotel bed, Nick nearly got up and took off again. Just thinking about facing that place again, facing his mother and siblings again, was scaring the living daylights out of him. How the hell was he ever going to explain to them why he did what he did?

Especially now that he had admitted the truth to himself, that he was angry because big brother Jarrod had fought in the war and he had mostly stayed behind the lines. He'd been angry with Jarrod, he'd been angry with his parents for getting him the aide position, and he'd been angry with himself for - for what? Accepting a lesser threat to his life because his brother had accepted a greater one? The waste, the waste of anger, the waste of years. _Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ he thought.

The only thing that kept him from running away now was the fact that his horse and tack had been taken by the liveryman while Nick was in jail – he couldn't pay the bill. But then there was also something Jarrod said to him when they parted company for the night. "Don't worry, Nick. I'll shore you up if you start to keel over, and you can shore me up if I do."

It had been such a long time since Nick felt any relationship like that with anyone. Over all these years, he had just drifted. He never made even one friend. The best he did was spend time with saloon girls who were at least company for a few hours. But to have someone look out for him, and trust him to look out for them –

It had been since they were kids and Jarrod had said to Nick that he'd look out for him. But Jarrod didn't live up to that, and maybe that was why Nick never found that kind of relationship with anyone else. But what about now? Jarrod wasn't the man who had gotten thrown out of the house ten years ago. Could he live up to that promise he made to Nick so long ago? Nick really wanted him to. He really, really wanted him to.

 _Ah, give him a chance_ , Nick thought. And then he thought, _and you better live up to looking out for him, too. Second chances like this don't come along very often. Don't blow it._


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Early the next morning, the three Barkley brothers boarded the train in Placerville, nervous and not entirely optimistic, but they boarded. There was a two hour layover in Sacramento before they would take the train south to Stockton. Jarrod took the opportunity to look in on his wife, and bring his brother Nick to meet her for the first time.

Eloise was working in the freight office when they got there, and when they came in the door, she flew into her husband's arms. They kissed and they laughed and when Jarrod said, "Honey, this is my brother Nick. Nick, this is my wife, Eloise," Nick saw genuine happiness in their eyes.

Nick was not always the most polite man in the room, but now he was compelled to take his hat off without even thinking about it. "Hello, ma'am," he said.

Eloise reached for his hand, and he took hers. "I'm very happy to meet you, Nick." She looked back at Jarrod. "How long are you here for?"

"The train to Stockton leaves in less than two hours," Jarrod said. "I'm not sure how long I'll be gone."

"Be gone as long as you need to be," Eloise said. "Just remember to let me know if it's going to be more than two or three days. Have you gentlemen eaten? Henry can watch the office while I whip you up a few scrambled eggs."

Across the room, Henry waved obligingly. Jarrod said, "Some scrambled eggs sound wonderful."

They all went back into the apartment Jarrod shared with his wife, and she herded them around the kitchen table, saying, "I have plenty of coffee. Are you interested?"

Three "yeses" came out almost at the same time. Eloise served it up and set about scrambling eggs.

"Beautiful wife you have there, Jarrod," Nick said. "How did you ever rate a lady like that?"

"I don't know, Nick," Jarrod said, watching his wife with a sparkle in his blue eyes. "I certainly didn't deserve her."

Eloise said, "We just met and things clicked right away."

Jarrod knew Nick had the question on his mind, so he answered it. "I was still battling my addictions when we met. Eloise was a nurse and she's the one who put me with the doctor who was finally able to help me."

"Then I thank you, Eloise," Nick said. "Pappy never looked so happy."

The nickname left Jarrod stunned for a moment. He hadn't heard it since before the war, and he certainly never thought he'd hear it again. He sure didn't deserve it.

"Pappy?" Heath asked.

"An old nickname," Jarrod said. "I think Nick came up with it when we were kids."

Two hours were nowhere near enough with his wife as far as Jarrod was concerned, but he understood why she was not interested in going to Stockton with them. "You have too many hurdles to go over," she said as she kissed him good-bye. "If I were there, too many people would want to be polite."

"And we don't need polite on this visit, do we?" Jarrod said.

"Just be open and be strong," Eloise said. "Once they know the truth, they may very well understand."

Jarrod took a deep breath. "We'll find out. Are you sure you're all right alone for a little longer?"

Eloise smiled. "I'm fine."

Jarrod kissed her. "Stay that way until I get home."

Nick and Heath watched for a moment, but then looked away, giving them privacy. Nick felt a startling pang of jealousy. Jarrod was so much farther along the path to sanity than he was.

They hurried on to catch the train, and luckily it was ten minutes late, because so were they. They boarded at the last minute and soon were on their way south.

This time, they were all rather silent. They had said a lot to each other over the last few days. Now it seemed like they were all talked out, but Heath thought it was something else. He could tell his brothers were downright scared, and it was getting worse the closer they got to Stockton. He understood. He knew there wasn't much he could say to make it easier. Truth be told, he was scared himself. This whole "visit home" plan was his idea. What if it backfired badly? Could he be ruining the home he just found?

Stockton came up so quickly they couldn't believe it. As the train came to a halt, they grabbed their bags and detrained.

And there they were, back where they never thought they'd be again. And they were arriving by train, just as they had when coming home from the war. Nick had come into town first back then, and now he remembered how dark and ugly he felt when he saw this place. His mother and father were there to pick him up. When he looked at them then, he almost hated them, and at the time he didn't understand why. Now he did, and now he was losing the anger. He was just scared.

Jarrod had arrived a few weeks later when coming home from the war. His homecoming was something he scarcely remembered, because he hadn't had any laudanum in days, and his was screaming inside from withdrawal symptoms. Now, he closed his eyes, because the horror of those symptoms was coming back over him as if they had never left.

"You boys all right?" Heath asked.

They both nodded, but it was clear they were both really frightened.

Heath said, "Let's go to the livery. My horse is there, and we can rent a rig for you two."

Nick and Jarrod both just nodded and followed Heath down the street.

They did not notice the young blonde woman watching them from the dry goods store they passed only a block away. Audra knew they'd be coming in today, and she knew she could get a look at them from here without them seeing her. She thought she would detest the sight of them, and in a way she did, but in a way, she ached to go after them, especially Nick. She had missed him more than she missed Jarrod, because she knew him better and because he had never laid a hand on her. But she was also angrier with him, because he had left of his own free will. He had left her of his own free will.

As she watched them pass by, she didn't know if she wanted to go home or not. "Is everything all right, Audra?" the woman behind the counter, cutting some cloth for another customer, asked.

Audra turned and nodded. "Yes, Mrs. Perry. It's fine."

XXXXX

Heath rode along on his horse while Nick drove himself and Jarrod in a buggy that also carried everyone's bags. Nick and Jarrod were still very silent, and they even tensed up as soon as they came onto Barkley property. Soon they were spotting herds of horses, then a herd of cattle, and men on horseback who turned to watch them.

"I wonder if we know any of these men," Jarrod said, the first words he'd uttered out loud since they left the livery.

"I don't, not offhand," Nick said.

"Heath said McCall was still here," Jarrod said.

"Between him and the kid, the ranch seems to be doing pretty well," Nick said. "They don't look like they've missed us at all."

"They haven't, Nick," Jarrod said. "We won't be getting a rousing welcome, you know."

"I know," Nick said. "I guess we can blame ourselves mostly for that, can't we?"

Jarrod chuckled a little at Nick's admission. "We've gotten older and wiser, haven't we?"

"I guess we'll find out in a few minutes," Nick said.

They crested the still familiar hill that was the last high ground before they would drift down to the house. They could see the place ahead of them. It looked exactly the same. The bunkhouses may have been painted a different color, but that was about it. When they pulled into the stable yard, a man they did not know came to meet them and took charge of the buggy and horse.

Heath dismounted and handed his horse off to another man. He asked a third man to take their bags into the house and leave them in the foyer. Jarrod and Nick climbed out of the buggy and stood staring at the house they'd grown up in like it was a snake that was going to bite them.

A young man came toward them from inside the stable. They weren't sure at first, but then they realized this was Eugene, that little boy they had left behind ten years ago. He was not as tall as either of them, but he clearly had a Barkley face and a gangly but solid Barkley build. He did not look welcoming at all.

They didn't know what to say to him, so they said nothing. It was just as well, because the first thing Eugene did was ball up his fist and knock Jarrod straight to the ground.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Eugene threw himself on top of Jarrod as soon as Jarrod was laid out in the dirt. He started pummeling his older brother with everything in him, smashing him in the face, in the ribs, on the chest and the shoulders. Jarrod made no effort to fight back at all. Despite the fact that he was taller and bigger and could have easily just pushed Gene off, Jarrod didn't do it. He just took everything Eugene dished out.

Nick flared up and started to intervene but Heath held him back, saying, "No." Letting Nick do the intervening was a very bad idea. Heath stepped in, pulling Eugene off by the collar. "All right, you've hurt him, now let him go, Gene. You don't want to kill him. Let him go."

Victoria came out of the house then, stopping with Heath as he held onto Eugene. A couple of the ranch hands were with Jarrod, helping him up. Heath wondered how in the world the man could get to his feet, he was so bloodied, stooped over, breathing hard. Heath was afraid he had misjudged Eugene's strength and let him keep punching a bit too long.

"Take him into the house," Victoria said quickly.

Victoria followed along as the men helped Jarrod into the house. She gave Eugene a hard, stern glare but then left him to Heath. Nick hesitated a moment, but when Victoria went into the house, he followed along, still a bit stunned by the "welcome" but thinking he shouldn't have been.

Heath kept himself between Eugene and the house, just in case his youngest brother made another run for his oldest brother. Eugene was out of breath, almost purple with rage as he watched Jarrod being helped inside. Heath just stood with him until his hard breathing began to ease. "Did that help?" he finally asked.

"I've been wanting to do that since I was seven years old," Eugene said, "and I'm not a bit sorry."

"I know you're not," Heath said. "And he had it coming. He knows it, too. That's why he didn't fight back."

Eugene hadn't noticed that, but he didn't care, either. "Why the hell did you bring him here?"

"Partly so you could do that," Heath said. "Partly so you could see he'd let you do it. Mostly because Mother needed to see him, and you and Audra need to understand why. Come on. Let's you and me take a walk so you can cool off."

In the house, they sat Jarrod down into his old "thinking chair," the chair he favored when he needed time to himself to consider something. Now, he was just bloody, hurting and light headed. Victoria went to the kitchen to fetch the medical supplies, while Nick sat down on the settee and kept an eye on Jarrod.

"How do you feel?" Nick asked.

Jarrod smiled just a little. "I haven't been beaten up that good in years." It hurt to talk, hurt his mouth and his midsection, and he groaned.

"The view from the moral high ground ain't so great right now, is it?" Nick asked.

Jarrod laughed a bit. It made him hurt all over, but he couldn't help it. "Gene didn't waste any time knocking me off of it, did he?"

Victoria returned with the medical supplies, but before she started using them, she looked hard at Jarrod's beaten face and felt his midsection. "Jarrod, you need a doctor."

"No," Jarrod said. "Just fix me up."

"You may have broken ribs, your nose may be broken – "

"No," Jarrod said. "Doctors like to use drugs, and I don't want any. Just patch me up the way you did after Nick and I had a scrape."

"Nick never broke any ribs."

"It wasn't for lack of trying," Nick said.

Victoria gave in with a sigh. "Nick, help him get his jacket and shirt off."

Jarrod tried to sit up straighter, but as soon as Nick had the jacket and shirt off, he had to slump a bit again for a minute. Victoria looked at his midsection. It wasn't beginning to turn color yet, but when she felt his ribs, he moaned and stiffened.

"Jarrod, you really need a doctor," she said.

"Might make the kid feel a bit guiltier if you call the doctor in," Nick suggested.

Jarrod shook his head again. "A doctor will want to give me laudanum."

"If you need it – " Victoria started.

Jarrod took hold of her hand. "I was hoping for time to have a quieter talk, but I suppose this is as good a time as any."

"Let me get you taped up," Victoria said. "Then we can talk."

Nick helped get Jarrod straightened while Victoria began to tape his ribs, but Jarrod kept talking. "No, let me just get it out in the open right now. Mother, during the war, I was wounded four times. Each time they gave me laudanum, and when I came home, I was so addicted to it that you might have done better just shutting me up in some opium den and leaving me there to rot. I was mean and violent when I couldn't get the laudanum. It was withdrawal, Mother, not anything psychological left over from the war. Just addiction."

Victoria had stopped when Jarrod used the word "laudanum." Her eyes took on a shocked, angry look. Jarrod kept looking at her, wondering if she was going to hit him herself now. Instead, she said with almost a growl, "Why didn't you tell us?"

"I was too ashamed," Jarrod said. "Too stubborn thinking I could get over it myself or just find a more reliable supply or I don't know. Not thinking straight at all. You were very right to throw me out. I was worse than worthless."

Victoria finished taping his ribs, then took out the astringent to doctor his face. Jarrod inhaled sharply every time she touched a cut or a scrape, and she seemed to rub it in harder every time she dabbed a sore spot. "If you had told us, we could have gotten you help," she said. "We could have avoided the past ten years. Maybe avoided losing you both."

"No, no, Mother," Nick quickly said. "My troubles weren't because of Jarrod's addiction. My troubles were my own."

Victoria looked up at Nick now. "So as long as it's time for confession, what were your troubles?"

"They're a little more complicated," Nick said. "Let's get Jarrod fixed up before we get into anything further."

By the time Victoria finished with him and they got his shirt back on, Jarrod was able to stand on shaky legs but his face was cut up, his nose was stuffed with cotton, and he was stiff from the tape over his ribs. "I'll get you some brandy," Victoria said when he was on his feet.

"No," Jarrod said.

Victoria looked at him. "Alcohol, too?"

Jarrod nodded. "I don't drink at all, Mother. I'm over all that stuff now. I won't risk any of it again."

Her eyes softened now. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Lemonade?" Jarrod said with a little grin.

"It'll hurt your mouth."

Jarrod just shrugged.

Victoria finally smiled, running her hand gently across his chest, then touching Nick the same way. "This wasn't the homecoming I planned," she said.

"I don't know," Nick said. "Maybe it's the one that's appropriate."

Silas suddenly appeared with a tray full of glasses and a pitcher of lemonade. Jarrod and Nick both looked at him fondly, almost as if he were another long lost brother. "Ah, Silas," Jarrod said. "Still reading minds, I see."

Silas smiled. "No, more like reading your mother when she came in to get the medical supplies. Shall I take them back into the kitchen, Mrs. Barkley?"

Victoria nodded. "Please."

"It's good to see you again, Silas," Nick said.

Silas nodded his thanks and took the medical supplies away. Just about then, the front door opened, and Heath came in, guiding Eugene with a hand on the back of his neck. But Eugene moved out from under him when Heath stopped to close the door. Gene came into the living room, Heath right behind him –

And suddenly they were all just standing there, none of them knowing what to say. There was no apology in Gene's eyes for what he'd done. He just stared hard at Jarrod, looking like he was ready to let into him again. Jarrod looked back at his youngest brother and almost wanted to smile. What he was seeing was the tiny three-year-old who stood looking confused when Jarrod went off to war, not the gangly 18-year-old who had just beaten him up.

Then Victoria stepped up to her youngest son and all but spit in his face. "You've had your revenge, and now I will have NO MORE of any of this kind of behavior, is that understood?"

Eugene hesitated.

"Is it?!"

Eugene finally nodded slowly.

Then she looked at everyone else. "Not from any of you. We are done with the violence in this house."

The three other heads nodded.

Then Victoria stepped out of the circle of sons surrounding her and sat down on the settee.

Heath broke the tension. "Does anyone know where Audra is?"

"She's gone to town," Victoria said. "I don't know when she'll be back."

Heath spotted the lemonade and began to pour drinks. "I think there's a whole lot to talk about," he said and began to hand glasses out. "If you all want to do that without me around – "

"No," Victoria said. "This affects you as much as it affects us. We'll all stay, and we'll all talk."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Jarrod eased himself back into this "thinking chair" before he took a glass of lemonade from Heath. Nick sat beside Victoria on the settee while Gene simply stood next to the fireplace. Heath took the chair beside Jarrod's.

"Why did you come back?" Eugene asked, staring at Jarrod.

"To talk," Jarrod said. "To explain to you what happened."

"You could have done that years ago."

"No, I couldn't," Jarrod said. "Until about a year ago I was still too sick to see what I needed to do."

"Sick?" Eugene asked.

Jarrod decided to spill it out fast. "When I fought in the war, I was wounded several times, and I became addicted to the painkiller laudanum. When I came home, I was still addicted, but I couldn't get any reliably and laudanum has terrible withdrawal effects. I was horrid to you and everyone else because the withdrawal effects were making me that way. After I left here, I stayed addicted and I became addicted to alcohol and opium, too, until I met my wife, and she got me to see a doctor who helped me get rid of all the drugs in my system. I'm better now. I'm not cured – addicts are never cured. But anything I did to you when I came home from the war was because I was addicted, and I was ashamed, and throwing me out was the best thing Mother and Father did for any of us."

"Wife?" Victoria asked.

Jarrod smiled as best he could. "Her name is Eloise. She's the best thing that ever happened to me, and without her I would have rotted in some opium den somewhere. She's saved me."

Eugene still glared at Jarrod, and he glared for long time, but he didn't say anything until he turned and looked at Nick. "And what's your excuse?"

Nick just shook his head. "I don't have one. I could blame Jarrod – I have been blaming him all these years – but it was really just me. During the war I felt unimportant. My big brother was fighting while I stayed out of the lines. I came home feeling like I hadn't done anything, or worse yet, I didn't do something important that I should have done. Pretty lousy reason to take it out on the people around me – and frankly, Gene, even if I never took my hand to you or Audra, I hurt you and I know it. I'm only sorry I didn't see the truth about myself before Father died."

Eugene digested everything he had heard, and Victoria looked up at him with hope in her eyes, hope that maybe at least they could all begin to understand. But Gene just said, "Like five minutes of words can make up for ten years," and he left the room.

Jarrod moaned a little and held his side as he sagged more into the chair.

"I'm sorry, Mother," Nick said.

Victoria touched his hand. "Gene's right. Five minutes of talk won't erase ten years, but I'm glad you've both told me the truth, or at least the beginning of it."

"Maybe we shouldn't stay any longer," Nick suggested.

"No," Victoria said. "You just got here, and I want you to stay. I want more time to talk and be with you again and Jarrod's in no shape to travel today anyway." She hesitated and groped for words, but ended up just squeezing Nick's hand. "Tell me more, Nick. What did you blame Jarrod for? What was the important thing you thought you should have done during the war and didn't do?"

Nick sighed and said, "Stopped Mayville."

Nick went on to explain his anger at being held back from fighting during the war, because Jarrod did do the fighting. They talked openly about Mayville and Nick's feeling that he had failed there, about Nick's reaction once he came back to the family after the war, even about Heath's experiences and Jarrod's during the war. They talked more about Jarrod's addictions and his fight to get over them. They had no idea that up the stairs, on the other side of the doorway to the guest wing of the house, Eugene had stopped to listen. He heard what they said, every word of a conversation that went on for more than an hour. He didn't want to – he didn't care, at first. But as they talked about fighting, destroying civilians, about prison camp and hospitals and drug addiction – Eugene began to understand how complicated and horrible the whole experience was, for every one of them in different ways.

He and Audra had been protected from all that. They were simply too small to deal with it. What they had to deal with was the aftermath, the two boys who came home men with problems that Gene and Audra couldn't begin to understand – and listening to his mother and older brothers discussing that horror, Gene knew a war was something he never wanted to have anything to do with. But his older brothers had, and it could never be entirely erased from who they were now.

After a while, Victoria said she wanted to take a walk to consider everything her oldest sons had told her, and she left the house alone. "You want to lie down for a while?" Heath asked Jarrod after Victoria went out.

"Yeah, probably a good idea if I rest a bit," Jarrod said. Then he smiled. "If Gene takes after me again, I may have to fight back this time. Better get my strength back."

Nick and Heath helped him toward the stairs. Jarrod's bag and Nick's saddlebag were on the floor with Heath's bag, next to the stairs. Heath let Nick get Jarrod up the stairs while he carried the bags. "Your old rooms are waiting for you," Heath said.

Jarrod and Nick looked at each other, neither one of them entirely sure they wanted to face that old childhood right now, but as they reached the first landing, the thoughts flew away. They both saw Eugene waiting there by the doorway to the guest wing.

Eugene just looked at them, and they knew by the look in his eyes he had been listening to everything that had just been said in the last hour down in the parlor. The three of them just looked at each other, and Heath stopped two steps below when he realized what was happening.

Nick finally spoke. "Want to hear more about the war, kid?"

Eugene looked from Nick to Heath and finally to Jarrod. "Maybe," he said.

Jarrod waved him on with them. "Come on. We'll talk some more."

XXXXXXX

Victoria walked around the grounds for a long time, thinking about what her sons had said to her. She thought back to the days after they came home and wondered, kicking herself, why she and her husband had never considered the possibility that Jarrod's problems were drug related. They knew he had been wounded several times – why didn't they think right away that he had become addicted to the painkillers they knew he had to have been given? And Nick – they were the ones who got the appointment for him as General Alderson's aide. They knew his temperament – they knew he came out swinging most of the time just because that's who he was. Why did they never understand that holding him back off the lines was not a good idea for a man like him? That was easy to answer for Victoria – they asked Nick to hold back because they were so worried about Jarrod who was in the thick of the fight. But why didn't they understand that he might come to resent it, to resent them and to resent Jarrod? And probably take it out on the world.

"Oh, Tom," Victoria whispered to herself at one point. "We really missed every signal we should have seen, didn't we?"

Victoria heard the faint sound of a buggy coming from around the bend in the road, and then she saw Audra approaching. She took a deep breath. They were going to have to go over this all over again with her, if she would listen. Well, she would have to listen. Victoria knew she would have to find a way to make Audra listen, and she immediately thought of how close Audra and Nick had been, especially while Jarrod was away at the war. And how hurt Audra had been when the bitter and angry man who only had time for fighting every other grown man around was the one who returned. Victoria remembered, Audra had adored Nick, and when he came back, he had ignored her. Having Jarrod physically abuse her was dreadful enough. Having Nick emotionally abuse her was even worse.

Audra pulled up beside her mother. There were no smiles from her daughter today. "Mother, are you all right?" Audra asked.

Victoria smiled slightly and nodded. "They're here."

"I know. I saw them in town."

"We've been talking," Victoria said. "Eugene has already beaten Jarrod up."

 _Good_ , Audra thought but did not say.

Victoria said, "I've asked them to stay overnight. Jarrod needs some rest."

Audra nearly turned the buggy around and went back to town.

Victoria said, "I understand a lot more than I ever did before, Audra. Gene is still confused and bitter. Would you please come into the house? You really need to hear what Nick and Jarrod have to say, even if it doesn't change your mind about them at all."

Audra looked up at the house. She really didn't want to hear anything.

"Please," Victoria said. "I need you."

Audra looked back at her mother, and she smiled a little. "Of course," she said. For her mother, she would come in and listen. But she didn't expect anything at all to change.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

When Nick helped Jarrod into his room, the two of them both stopped just inside the door. They looked around, frozen in time for a moment. The room was exactly the same as it had been the night his parents threw Jarrod out. Nothing at all had changed – not the curtains, not the bed linen, nothing. They were stunned.

Heath brought Jarrod's bag in and set it on the desk in the corner so Jarrod wouldn't have to bend over to reach into it. Then he took Jarrod by the arm Nick didn't have him by, saying, "Just lie down for a while. You'll do better."

They got him to the bed and he lay down flat on top of it with a relaxing sigh. "You're right. This is better."

Nick pulled up a chair for Eugene, saying, "Sit down, Gene. This confab might take a while."

Heath pulled up chairs for Nick and for himself.

Everyone sat down, but now they didn't know what to say, until Jarrod looked at Eugene and said, "You hit pretty hard, kid."

"I'm sorry," Eugene said. "I really didn't mean to hurt you this much."

"Yeah, you did," Jarrod said. "I earned it fair and square. Gene, I'm sorry for what happened between us when I got home from the war. I was a monster."

"I know," Eugene said. "But I heard everything you were saying downstairs. I don't understand drug addiction or alcoholism, but I do understand that it did what it did to you."

"But all is not forgiven," Jarrod said, "and that's all right. It doesn't need to be."

"You want to lay into me too?" Nick asked.

Eugene shook his head. "You never hit me. But I do want you to know what you did to Mother and Father and Audra. When you left, they went to pieces."

Nick was surprised. Victoria hadn't said anything like that.

"For a long time, they couldn't even smile," Gene said. "And if I'm mad at you, it's not so much because you got into those vicious fights all the time and even fought with Father. It's because you left in the middle of the night without a word."

Nick leaned back in his chair. "I didn't know it would bother you like that. I thought you'd be glad to see me gone, like you were glad to see Jarrod gone."

"I was a little bit," Gene said, "but Audra wasn't."

"Audra?"

"She was nuts about you, Nick. You were the one she loved the most, and you came home and ignored her and then you just left her. She cried every night for days, wanting Mother and Father to get you back, but nobody knew where you'd gone. If you need to apologize to anyone around here, it's Audra."

"But she's not here," Nick said quietly.

"She'll be here," Eugene said. "As mad as she is at you, she'll still want to see you, and if she doesn't come back before you're ready to leave, you need to go to town and find her."

Nick was totally surprised and totally devastated to hear this. It never occurred to him, in all these years, that it was Audra who suffered the most by his leaving. She was just a little girl, after all, and he had already been gone for a year. How could she have missed him so much?

Nick got up and walked to the window. He looked at the road that led to town, wishing Audra were coming back down that road, but she wasn't. Not yet, anyway. Nick rubbed his chin. "I didn't know."

"You weren't around to know," Eugene said.

Heath noticed something. Eugene was explaining now, not just hitting. He wanted Jarrod and Nick to understand his hurt, and now Audra's too. Maybe they were all making headway through this mire, this wreckage of a family, even if they really didn't know how they were doing it.

Nick stayed at the window as they talked and listened to each other, until he saw the buggy coming down the road, and he saw the beautiful blonde girl get out. He was startled to see her. She had become such a stunningly beautiful young woman. "Audra's here," he said.

Jarrod started to get up.

"No, stay there," Nick said, turning away from the window and heading for the door. "I gotta talk to her first."

Heath wondered whether he should go along, but he wasn't sure until Jarrod nodded slightly. Heath followed along, but at a distance.

Heath stopped on the stairs when Audra came in the front door with Victoria, just as Nick reached the foyer. Everyone stopped where they were. Audra's eyes were locked on Nick's. Nick wanted to smile, but the fury in Audra's eyes stopped him.

Nick stood still as Audra came slowly toward him, and immediately slapped him hard across the face. He took it, only rubbing his cheek a bit. "I guess I had that coming," he said.

Audra slapped him again.

Victoria came to her daughter and held her arm back. "That's enough, Audra. Stop. I won't have any more violence in this house."

"How dare you come back here," she said into Nick's face. "You slink out of here in the middle of the night and stay away for nearly ten years, and now you think you can just waltz back in here like nothing happened."

"No," Nick said. "That's not what I think."

"Then what are you doing here?!" Audra shouted. "Why didn't you just stay away?!"

"I'm not really sure," Nick said. "I just figured it was way past time I explained myself."

"I don't want to hear it! I don't care!"

"Yes, you do," Nick said.

Audra went to slap him again, but he caught her hand.

"I know I hurt you," Nick said. "I hurt you worse than Jarrod did, I know. I can't fix it. I can try to explain it, but that won't mean much. You loved me and I acted like it meant nothing and I left you without a word. I was selfish and thoughtless and nothing I can do or say will fix it. But I do love you. I've been thinking of you every day for all these years. I just – wasn't man enough to come home and face you, and I'm sorry, Audra. I'm so sorry."

Nick's eyes grew wet, but he had run out of words. Whatever ghosts he carried home with him from the war wouldn't mean anything to Audra, not right now. Right now all he could be was contrite, and he was, genuinely.

Audra calmed down, but she was not ready for forgive him, not even remotely. "I cried for you. For days and nights, I cried for you."

"I know," Nick said. "Gene told me."

Audra flared up again. "What right does he have - !"

"Audra," Nick said, trying to sound gentle, "he loves you and he cares about you, and he wanted me to know what I did to you. And until he explained it just a while ago, I was too selfish and thoughtless to recognize it myself."

Audra began to tremble, very slightly, but when she finally said, "Where have you been? Why did you wait so long to come home?" she began to let the anger turn to tears.

"I've been beating men up and going from town to town and jail to jail," Nick said. "Jarrod says I'm lucky I'm not in San Quentin, and he's right. I didn't come home because I didn't know how to change. Blame this one here for coming to get me if you don't want me here. Blame this guy for making me want to try to talk to you all, finally."

Nick pointed toward Heath, who was still standing on the stairs. Audra looked his way, and smiled a little, some of that lopsided smile that she already was picking up from her newest brother. "He is awfully Barkley, isn't he?" Audra said.

"Stubborn and persistent," Nick said. "Yeah, he's Barkley."

Victoria came up behind her daughter and rubbed her shoulders. "Let's sit down and talk a bit."

Audra lost her smile. "Where's Jarrod?"

"Upstairs," Nick said. "Eugene beat him up pretty good. I guess they're still working it out. So go easy on him when you see him, Audra. He's already taken his punishment."

 _Not from me, he hasn't_ , Audra thought, but she left it unsaid and let the rising anger go. She could only deal with one errant brother at a time, and right now she was focused on Nick. She let him take her by the elbow and guide her to the settee, and Victoria and Heath followed.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Nick took a deep breath and went right into explaining where he'd been, how he'd been bashing heads right and left everywhere this side of the divide, how he'd spent so many nights in so many jails that he was beginning to think he ought to carve his name into the walls so everyone would know that Nick Barkley had been here. But then he thought the things he was saying were sounding too flip, too much like he didn't care what he'd become or worse yet, was proud of it.

"Truth is," he said, "I just lost control of myself. Mother and Heath have heard this already, Audra, but when I came home from the war, I felt deep down like I hadn't been important in the war because I was mostly back of the lines, and I wasn't important, period. I just let myself wallow in that, and when Jarrod left, it got worse, not better. I just started beating on men, maybe to make myself feel more important, I don't know. But the point is, I forgot you. I was so wrapped up in myself and my anger that I forgot you. If I hadn't forgotten you, if I had remembered how much you loved me and how much I loved you, like we were before the war – "

Nick stopped. He was choking up. But when no one said anything, he kept going.

"It was all my fault," Nick said. "I don't know how I managed to let all those years go by without getting my head back together. Well, no, that's not true. I know how it happened. I got too ashamed to change. I got too lazy to change. Every time I thought about coming back home, I thought about the fights Father and I had and I just got too ashamed to change my ways."

"Maybe we should have come after you," Audra said. "Isn't that what changed? Heath came and found you."

"Yes," Nick said. "And he got Jarrod to come, too, and that's what did it. Audra, I'm so sorry. I should never have let it go on as long as it did."

Audra just shook her head at him. "Nick, I loved you. I was so excited and happy to have you come home from the war. Didn't you know that?"

Nick took a deep breath. "Honey, I was so wrapped up in myself and my own troubles that when I thought of you – and I did, every day. When I thought of you, I only thought of how much I loved you. It never even occurred to me that you loved me."

Audra shook her head again. "I don't know how I could have made it any clearer."

Heath began to cringe inside. Nick and Audra were talking, but were they getting through to one another? He saw Victoria looking at him, and he saw Audra hanging her head and not knowing what else to say. He saw Nick getting up and wandering toward the place where the liquor was kept.

"Nick – " Heath said quickly, and Nick stopped and turned. Heath turned his attention to Audra once he was sure Nick was watching. "Audra – war is just the most horrible thing a man can go through. It changes you. It can make you look only to yourself because you have to do that to survive. I was just a kid, a lot younger than you, when I went into the war and was captured and put in prison, and I spent every day I was in that prison thinking about me, just me, how I could get out of there. When I was sick and raging with fever, I was still thinking every thought of me. Just me. Just surviving. Nick wasn't in the fighting as much, but he did get into it once in a while. And even when he wasn't on the line, he still got lost in himself. He was back being an aide to a general and he had to watch everybody else he knew fighting and dying, and he was still trying to survive that. He felt like he said he felt."

"Worthless," Nick muttered.

"And you've spent every day since trying to beat it into other men that you're not worthless," Victoria said.

Nick looked up at his mother. "When Mayville happened during the war and all those innocent people were killed – I took the fault onto myself because I wasn't there, and I felt more worthless."

"But you weren't supposed to be there," Victoria said.

Nick nodded. "It wasn't until Heath came along and brought Jarrod and we talked that I let myself believe that was true. I was doing the job I was supposed to do. Mayville wasn't my fault. I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry."

Audra got up slowly and came over to him. "I'm sorry, too," she said.

"No, no," he said, smiling an embarrassed smile. "You've got nothing at all to be sorry about. I'm the one who got so wrapped up in myself that I ruined my life."

"It's not ruined," Victoria said quickly and came over to the two of them. "It was detoured for a while, but it doesn't need to be ruined."

"I don't know if I can change, Mother," Nick said.

"No, you don't, not until you try."

Nick took a deep breath. He didn't want to cry, but his voice was getting shaky and his hands were getting shaky.

They all sat down again and kept talking. Heath took the opportunity to slip upstairs, where he was almost startled to find Eugene helping Jarrod to get off the bed and stand up. Jarrod looked up. "How's it going down there?"

"Not bad," Heath said. "Audra slapped Nick across the face a couple times and then they started talking. They're still at it."

"Is it time for me to take my medicine?" Jarrod asked.

"When she gets a look at the damage I did, she might not slap you," Eugene said. Jarrod's left eye was beginning to turn color.

Heath could tell his brothers had continued to talk up here together. "I can only hope," Jarrod said.

Jarrod was able to walk around on his own, and soon the three of them were joining Nick, Audra and Victoria in the living room. All conversation stopped when Audra got a look at Jarrod. If she had been inclined to slap him too, the urge slipped away when she saw his face. She was sitting on the settee again with Nick, and she did not get up. She just stared at her oldest brother.

Jarrod was almost wished she'd get up and hit him. Her staring was more unnerving. Jarrod let his gaze fall as he took a deep breath. "Hello, Audra," he said. It was all he could think of to say, but as he started feeling a bit light-headed – from the beating or his nerves, he wasn't sure which - he said, "I think I'd better sit down," and sat in his vacant "thinking chair."

Audra sighed and just said, "I'm listening."

It was Jarrod's turn to sigh. "Have you told Audra anything yet?"

Victoria said, "No, not about you."

Jarrod straightened up, trying to ease the pain in his ribs. "Where should I start?"

"Maybe with why you came home from the war feeling like you could knock me and Gene around whenever you felt like it," Audra said. "The minute you came in the door, Jarrod. The minute you came into this room, you were horrible to us, and to everybody else. And never a word of explanation."

Jarrod nodded. "You're right, of course. I've explained to everyone else now, and they've taken it however they've taken it, so here it is for you. When I was in the war, I was wounded several times, and each time they gave me laudanum. When I came home, I was addicted, pure and simple, and I couldn't get it enough, so most of the time I was screaming mad with withdrawal. When I was able to get some, or get some opium, it eased off, but it came right back again. Then I started drinking too much on top of that, and that's all there is to say."

Audra wasn't expecting that. She swallowed. "How are you now?"

"Sober," Jarrod said. "I was in San Francisco for a lot of years, and I met a woman who put me in touch with a doctor who helped me ease off everything. Now I run a freight business in Sacramento, I married that woman, and I've been straightened out for a year." He looked at his sister, waiting for whatever was going to come next.

Audra's gaze fell, and everyone could see her trying to sort this out. "Why didn't you come home?" she finally asked.

"I wasn't welcome," Jarrod said. "And I thought there was just too much for you to forgive. When Eloise and I got married and moved to Sacramento, I built another life. I figured it was best just to let everything be."

"Until Heath came along," Audra said.

Jarrod nodded. "Until Heath came along. Audra, I'm not asking for forgiveness or even understanding. I expect that's too much to ask. I'm just explaining myself."

Audra sank a little more into the settee. It was easy to see that she was overwhelmed.

Nick got up. "Jarrod – maybe you and I ought to leave these people alone for a little bit. We've just dumped a load onto them."

Jarrod nodded as he got slowly to his feet. "Let's take a look around the yard, see if we remember much."

The two of them left by the front door, leaving the four remaining Barkleys to watch them, and then to figure out what had just happened in the last hour or two. And what they were going to do now.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Jarrod and Nick walked slowly toward the stable, not saying much yet. They were as overwhelmed as everyone else was. Neither one of them had expected that coming here was going to be easy, but each of them thought, to himself, that it was a lot more grinding than they thought it would be. They didn't say a word until they stopped by the corral, watching a chestnut mare nosing around. She looked up at them and then went back to nosing around.

"How are you feeling?" Nick asked.

"Beaten up," Jarrod said.

"I meant your outlook on life around here."

Jarrod smiled a little. "So did I. It hurts to face up to your family and tell them the truth about yourself, doesn't it?"

"Hurts more to face up to yourself," Nick said. "I never thought I'd do it, not without beating somebody up pretty bad."

"Is that what you're going to do when we leave here? Find somebody to beat up?"

"Only if you go looking for an opium den."

Jarrod shook his head. "I'm through with that, Nick. I expect it's gonna be easier for me to be through with that than for you to be through with assaulting men all over the countryside."

Nick sighed. "You know, Jarrod, I understand what I said to everybody. I understand that there was a whole boatload of truth in what I told everyone, and all in all, it wasn't that hard to own up to it. But stopping it – I don't know if I can. You know?"

Jarrod nodded. "I never had any luck stopping the drugs and the liquor until someone helped me do it. You can't do anything like we've needed to do without help."

"You found the right woman."

"And it made all the difference. But you know, Nick, there's a whole family waiting here to help you."

Nick laughed nervously. "Jarrod, these good people aren't gonna take on my troubles."

"No, you are, but maybe they'd help."

Nick just shook his head. "Jarrod, I don't know."

"I don't either. When Eloise and the doctor started helping me get off the laudanum and the opium and the liquor, I didn't know if I was gonna be able to do it. In fact, I thought I wouldn't be able to do it. I'd tried before and it never worked, but it turns out I wasn't trying the right way. I needed somebody to look me in the eye every day and just say, 'Today, you are only gonna take this much laudanum and no more.' And one day led to another and another and eventually, the years went by, and the drugs and the liquor trickled away."

"Jarrod, I can't say to myself 'Today, I'm only gonna beat up one man.'"

"No, but you can get up in the morning and say to yourself, 'Today, I'm not gonna beat up anybody, and I'll take care of tomorrow, tomorrow.'"

Nick understood, but it sounded so hard. And maybe the hardest part – "You think I ought to stay here, don't you?"

"If they ask you to, yes," Jarrod said. "You gotta admit, this place is full of good influence."

"But you won't stay."

Jarrod shook his head. "I've got a life in Sacramento."

Nick wondered something. "Jarrod, why did you leave San Francisco?"

Jarrod chuckled. "I was wondering if anybody was gonna ask me that. It was while I was still on the drugs and liquor, and I was too well connected with the suppliers. Eloise had come into my life, and she and that doctor who got me started cleaning up told me it was get away from the easy supply or I'd die. As simple as that. Once they got me on a schedule of getting off the drugs and the liquor and we knew I could stick to it, I sold my business in San Francisco and we moved to Sacramento. I started up a new freight business there."

"How did you ever keep those businesses going while you were jacked up on drugs and liquor?"

Jarrod laughed again. "There was already a good business going when I took over that first freight line in San Francisco. After that, Eloise and I hired good people to work for us, people who knew enough of what they were doing that I could let them do their jobs and not worry about it."

"But just getting started - how did you ever get started getting off of the crap?"

"I met Eloise and she made me actually want to get off the poisons. That's the secret, Nick. You gotta get to the point where you want it. You gotta want to change, because it takes a lot of work and a lot of pain. Do you want it? Do you want a different life than the one you've been living?"

"God, yes," Nick finally admitted. "God, yes, I want it."

Jarrod smiled. "Then let them know you want it. I'll bet anything they'll let you stay, or at least help you out with a job."

Nick chuckled. "A job. Can you picture me working for Eugene?"

Jarrod laughed. "I think that might be just the ticket that gets him to let you stay."

XXXXXX

Inside, there was silence for quite a while. Heath kept looking at his family, wondering seriously if he had done the right thing in bringing Jarrod and Nick here. This day had been so hard on everyone – Jarrod and Nick for speaking the truth, the rest of them for hearing it. Heath knew, for himself, that it had been a good thing that he found his older brothers. He had come to know them, and he understood them, and he liked them. But what did Victoria, Eugene and Audra think? Had it all been too much for them to believe?

Audra finally spoke first. "I don't know how to take all this. I don't know these men. I don't know whether to believe them or not."

"You were only children when they left, you and Eugene," Victoria said. "We had no idea what they were going through when they left. We didn't understand at all, so of course, you and Gene couldn't understand. At least now, I'm beginning to understand. Heath – have you met Jarrod's wife?"

"Yes," Heath said. "She's one fine woman, and Jarrod is crazy in love with her."

"Is he drinking or taking drugs anymore?" Eugene asked.

"Not that I've seen," Heath said, "and he doesn't have the look of a man who does."

"This freight business," Victoria said. "Why haven't we ever heard of it?"

"Oh," Heath said, suddenly realizing something. "Jarrod changed his name when he left here, like we thought he might have. In San Francisco, he was Jim Brooks. In Sacramento, he's Jim Brookings, and the business is Brookings Freight Lines."

Eugene stood up straight in surprise. "HE'S Brookings Freight Lines?"

Victoria shook her head and smiled. "We've used them half a dozen times. We just never met the owner – and it's Jarrod?"

Heath nodded. "Have you been happy with them?"

"Happy as we can be," Victoria said. "We never had any idea it could even possibly be Jarrod's business."

"It is," Heath confirmed. "His and his wife's."

"His wife," Audra said. "I can't believe he's married."

Heath said, "He's made a life for himself in the past few years. I think we can believe he's a different man than the one you threw out ten years ago."

"And Nick?" Victoria asked, more doubtful.

Heath sighed. "You said he always was a rough and tumble kind of guy. And we did find him finishing up a 30-day sentence in Placerville for assault. In a way, dealing with a rough personality is harder than dealing with drugs and liquor."

Audra drifted off somewhere, remembering Nick before the war. Remembering how happy he was, how he could make her laugh, how he could understand her when no one else seemed to be able to. She missed him so much.

Victoria saw it happening. "If he wants to stay, perhaps we should let him."

Audra and Eugene both looked up, surprised. "Mother, how in the world can we run all our businesses and reform our wayward brother at the same time?" Eugene asked.

"Heath," Victoria turned to him. "Jarrod won't stay even if we ask him to, will he?"

Heath shook his head. "He's got a business and a family, Mother, and it's not here."

"Jarrod used to be a good influence on Nick," Victoria said. Then she looked up at Eugene and back at Heath. "Can you two be that good influence?"

Heath said, "We got no way of knowing until we try."

Audra got up, nervous. "How can we try when we know he can be so dangerous?"

Eugene said, "It was Jarrod who hit us, Audra. Nick never did."

"But Nick has hurt other men, and you're grown now, Gene," Audra said. "He hurt Father. He could hurt you or Heath."

"I think I'm willing to take the chance, if Nick wants to stay," Heath said.

"Maybe I am too," Eugene said, "assuming he can do the work around here."

"I think he can," Heath said, "but we can make ourselves sure of that before we commit to him."

"Well, maybe I'm not ready to let him stay," Audra said.

Victoria understood. "Nick hurt you when he left you of his own free will," she said to her daughter. "And maybe he'll do it again. But your father and I didn't understand him when he came home from the war, and he left when we couldn't help him. Now we understand. Maybe he'd leave again, but maybe he wouldn't."

"There would have to be an understanding," Eugene said. "I run this ranch. Nick will be working for me, and for Heath. He won't be running this operation."

Victoria nodded. "He always thought he would be the one to run things, and it might be a problem if he starts thinking that again."

"But he might not think that," Heath said. "And I'll be backing you up, Gene. You're the boss here. We'll make him understand that before he decides whether to stay or not."

So, then it was all up to Audra. They looked at her. She looked back at each of them.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Jarrod and Nick turned when they heard someone coming up behind them. It was Audra, alone, and when Jarrod looked at her she stopped and even backed up a hair. She was afraid of him, instinctively. Jarrod sighed, accepting it, knowing he deserved it.

"I want to talk to Nick," Audra said.

Jarrod nodded and went off to the house. Audra came up beside Nick and leaned on the top rail of the corral. Nick turned and did the same thing.

"He won't hurt you anymore, Audra," Nick said.

"It was just a reaction," Audra said. "I suppose if Jarrod were around enough and he didn't hurt us anymore, I'd get over it."

Nick nodded. "What do you want to talk to me about?"

"We've been talking a lot inside," Audra said, turning toward him. "Mother and Eugene and Heath think they want to ask you to stay and go to work for Eugene, but I – I don't know what I want."

"I can't say I blame you," Nick said. "I know I hurt you as much as Jarrod ever did. Maybe more."

"Nick – " Audra hesitated and swallowed. "I remember when I was a little girl and you went off to the war, I made you promise you'd come back. But you didn't."

"Whoever came back, it wasn't me," Nick agreed.

Audra looked at him. "If we ask you to stay, I have to know that you're not the same man who came back from the war. I have to know that you're not going to beat up whoever you want and then just leave me in the middle of the night without a word."

Nick sighed. "Audra, I wish I could tell you I wasn't the same man who came back from the war. I don't know if I am or not. Last week maybe I'd have said, yes, I am that same man, but that new Barkley of yours – he has a way of making you reexamine who you think you are. And then seeing how Jarrod's turned his life around over the last few years, I find myself thinking maybe it isn't as impossible as I thought to become a different man. I don't know. I can't make any promises about that. But I can promise that I will never leave you in the middle of the night without a word again. If you ask me stay, if I decide to stay, I'll never do that to you again."

Audra looked away, toward the chestnut mare, considering what Nick had said. "Do you want to stay?" she asked.

Nick took a long moment to think about that. Now that Audra had asked, it was a tougher decision than he thought. Not that he was happy going from jail to jail for starting fights with men he didn't even know. That was no way to live, and part of him knew it wasn't the way he was ever meant to live. He thought for a minute about what life would have been like for him if he had never gone to war. He'd be living here, working a ranch, probably running it. Never seeing the inside of a jail – or at least not so often.

The appeal of that picture was stronger than he ever imagined it could be. Jarrod had beaten his demons – Nick thought maybe he could beat his, or at least it was worth a try. "I do want to stay," Nick said, "but do all of you want me to stay?"

Audra hesitated, but then she said, "Let's go talk about it."

XXXXXXX

The family talked it over and decided to take another day to talk, to be together, to try to get to know each other better. Heath and Eugene took Nick out to work with the herd, to see how he'd do as a wrangler, and to see how he'd get along with the other men. Audra stayed part of the morning with Victoria and Jarrod but then spent the day in town at the orphanage. Victoria was disappointed, but Jarrod understood. She wasn't ready to be too close to him yet. She needed more time than just yesterday and today. He took the day to talk with his mother and Silas, and to recover from the beating which now looked like it was going to blacken his other eye too.

It was a day for letting the previous day settle in. It was a day for adjusting and letting the past drift into the future, and for deciding what would happen now.

When Audra and the three youngest Barkley brothers came home, the family talked a bit more, and then took a vote. It was unanimous – they would let Nick stay, but there were several conditions. He would work for Eugene and Heath, he would steer clear of saloons for six months at least, he would avoid fights and even practice turning the other cheek, and if he decided to leave, he would tell everyone before he did. Nick found the staying away from saloons part a bit much, but he decided to give it a try. He decided that maybe he could keep himself busy enough working on the ranch that he could meet the condition, and after that, maybe he wouldn't need the saloons so much.

Jarrod felt a funny sense of being left out. He was the one who had left here for good, and he'd be leaving again soon for good. Maybe he could bring his family here for a visit now and then, but he couldn't stay. Odd man out again, but then his heart was in Sacramento, not here, not ever again, and that was the way he wanted it. "Well, I wish you all the best on this," Jarrod said, "but it's a little hard for me to stick around to see how things work out, what with a wife and a baby to support."

"Baby?!" everyone said at once.

"Oh, didn't I mention that?" Jarrod said with a little grin.

"No!" Victoria was the first to yell. "When?"

"Five or six months," Jarrod said. "I'll make sure we stay in touch, Mother, so you know when your first grandchild arrives."

Victoria flew into Jarrod's arms, and even if Audra and Eugene felt a distinct awkwardness about it and Jarrod cringed from the effect on his ribs, everyone knew it was a big turning point in the Barkley family life. Until this moment, she hadn't held either Jarrod or Nick. They were just a couple strangers who had come through the door, everyone figuring out if they had a part in this Barkley family. Now, it looked like maybe they did.

XXXXXXX

Nick and Heath together took Jarrod to the train station the next morning. As they waited for it to pull in and pick up Stockton passengers, the three of them stood on the platform just chatting idly as three brothers might. Then the train pulled in, and it was time to say good-bye.

"Well," Jarrod said and offered his hand, "thank you, Heath. We've got a long way to go, and I don't know how all this is going to play out, but at least we're in play, and we have you to thank for it."

"Let's see if you're still in play once that wife of yours gets a look at your face and your ribs," Nick said. By now both Jarrod's eyes had blackened and Nick and Heath suspected Eloise would have a few choice words for the brother-in-law who blackened them.

"I'm just the middleman," Heath said. "You and Nick have to do the work."

Jarrod said, "You've given us the chance." Then he shook Nick's hand. "See if you can stay out of jail before you bleed the Barkley ranch dry on bail money, Nick."

Nick chuckled. "You stay sober, and be a good husband and father for that family of yours."

"I will do my damndest," Jarrod promised, and then as the train pulled to a stop, he said, "Good luck," and he climbed onto the train.

Nick and Heath waited to watch it pull out a couple minutes later. They spotted Jarrod, his arm out one of the windows, waving good-bye. They waved back.

"You think he's gonna be all right?" Nick asked.

"There are no guarantees. He's an addict and addicts fight all their lives, but he's put himself on the right track. I think he's got a good chance," Heath said.

"What about me?" Nick asked, sounding unsure, and a bit scared.

Heath took a deep breath. "Follow the program with everything in you, and I think you got a good chance, too. But you gotta mean it. You gotta want it."

"That's what Jarrod said," Nick said. Then he took a deep breath as the train pulled out of sight. "Well, I guess if I'm gonna do that, I'd better get started."

Heath knew Nick was scared, and he couldn't blame him. He looked inside for some way to encourage him, and he ended up just saying, "Yeah. It's time to start."

The End


End file.
